


Whether Asleep or Awake (I Think of You)

by touougakuen



Series: At All Hours [1]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Akashi just wants someone to pick up his dry cleaning, Alternate Universe - Corporate, Alternate Universe - Office, Boss Akashi and Assistant Furihata, Furihata is an angel as always, GOM appearances, He didn't ask to fall in love too, Lots of fluff to ensue, M/M, We love matchmaker Momoi, and Aomine and Kagami are forever idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:54:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 31,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26328223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/touougakuen/pseuds/touougakuen
Summary: It was becoming clear to Akashi that Momoi must’ve hired the bumbling brunette as some kind of practical joke. But that didn’t make sense either. Momoi Satsuki was, by all standards, a perfectly professional employee. So then what could have led his trusted receptionist to go astray when she hiredFurihata Koukias his new personal assistant? A man who had just gone to pick up Akashi’s dry cleaning, paid for it, and thenwalked all the way back to the office without taking the clothes with him.Akashi needs a personal assistant and Furihata might just be the man for the job. AkaFuri corporate/office AU.
Relationships: Akashi Seijuurou/Furihata Kouki
Series: At All Hours [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1941139
Comments: 66
Kudos: 312





	1. Two Weeks

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a variation of the Japanese phrase, 寝ても覚めても、私はいつもあなたのことばかり考えています, which translates to, "whether I'm sleeping or awake, I think of you all the time."
> 
> This will be a short, lighthearted fic (around 5 chapters?), told entirely from Akashi's PoV. The idea of Furihata working for Akashi in a corporate setting is partly inspired by warsfeil's "Empty Cups and Warming Up", which is one of my all time favourite AkaFuri fics. :)

“Furihata-kun.”

“Yes, Akashi-san?”

Akashi was staring at the brunette in front of his desk, who, like always, was too nervous to make eye contact, “Forgive me if I’m wrong, but I believe I had asked you to pick up my dry cleaning.”

“Um, yes, you did!” Furihata said with an anxious nod of his head, eager to please. He inched closer to Akashi and placed a shiny black item next to his laptop. It was Akashi’s credit card. “Here you go.”

Akashi looked down at Furihata’s empty hands and then back at his increasingly anxious face.

“Furihata-kun,” he said again.

“Yes?”

“Where is my dry cleaning?”

There was a pause before Furihata was spinning on his heel, a frenzied mess as he sprinted towards the door as fast as his legs could carry him, “I’m sorry, Akashi-san!”

Akashi could only blink at the spot where a befuddled Furihata had stood merely seconds ago, wondering, for the third time that week, what could have possibly possessed Momoi to make such a… selection.

“You need a personal assistant,” he recalled her disgruntled voice from a couple months ago, as she tossed a pile of neatly pressed shirts onto his large desk. She had just narrowly missed his coffee cup. “I’m _not_ picking up your dry cleaning again.”

“Those are going to wrinkle,” he had pointed out, not as a scolding but an observation.

“Akashi-kun, I missed five calls while I was out! And no one was at my desk to sign for a delivery, so we didn’t get the Takigawa documents either,” she huffed. “I can’t juggle being both your receptionist and running errands for you! Get an assistant, Akashi-kun. I’m _serious_.”

She was right, Akashi couldn’t deny her that fact. So, he agreed, on the condition that she handled the hiring process herself. Akashi simply didn’t have the time to hold interviews for such a menial position, and most importantly, he trusted Momoi’s judgment.

Well, he wasn’t so sure anymore. Had he put a little too much faith in her?

It was becoming clear to Akashi that Momoi must’ve hired the bumbling brunette as some kind of practical joke. But that didn’t make sense either. Momoi Satsuki was, by all standards, a perfectly professional employee.

So then what could have led his trusted receptionist to go astray when she hired _Furihata Kouki_ as his new personal assistant? A man who had just gone to pick up Akashi’s dry cleaning, paid for it, and then _walked all the way back to the office without taking the clothes with him_.

When he first met Furihata, he looked as if a bomb would go off at any second. And that Akashi was magically holding the detonator.

“M-Momoi-san said to come and introduce myself,” his wide, brown eyes darted to every corner of the room, determined not to meet Akashi’s. He bowed once more. That was probably the fifth time, “I’m Furihata Kouki. Pleased to be of, uh, service to you… Akashi-san.”

True to their first encounter, Akashi soon noticed that Furihata always seemed to be on edge. And maybe it was a direct result of that, but he was rather clumsy, too. Because of this, he was constantly apologizing for his errors, be it big or small.

“Sorry about that, Akashi-san,” Furihata mumbled when he reappeared in the red head’s office. His expression was sheepish as he hung each dress shirt on the coatrack, treating every garment with exceptional care. Akashi could see that his forehead was damp with a thin layer of sweat after he had gone and returned from the dry cleaners, in what he could only assume was a mad dash around the block.

“It’s no problem,” Akashi was reminding himself to be patient. He wasn’t trying to scare Furihata anymore than he already had by simply… existing. “Thank you, Furihata-kun.”

But as he watched the man leave his office in hurried steps, Akashi considered his options again.

He had already cycled through two assistants at this point and it had only been a month. The first one he had to let go of once it became unbearable for him to listen to another one of her funny college anecdotes (they were not, to Akashi’s criterion, the least bit humorous). The second girl had lasted a mere week before resigning in tears, explaining she just couldn’t keep up with Akashi’s schedule, not if she was going to have a “healthy work-life balance” (that one, Akashi thought, was actually funny).

Perhaps Momoi had missed the mark more than once now.

Consequently, rumors were beginning to spread in the company that Akashi Seijuurou was difficult to work with. That he was some sort of tyrannical boss who had the ability to send a personal assistant flying for the door. Or out the window.

He remembered one of many conversations he had with his father before his takeover of Akashi Enterprises. His deteriorating health and stern doctors’ orders had forced him into early retirement, prompting him to prematurely pass the leadership position to Akashi, who was still just under 30 years old. His father emphasized the importance of keeping a firm, but benevolent image with his employees; not to rule them like a dictator would. He said one could never produce the best results out of people if they worked in fear.

And so, Akashi knew he couldn’t fire the new assistant on his third day.

He had decided he would give Furihata Kouki no more than two weeks.

 _Two weeks,_ he told himself again. Akashi was more than capable of being a calm and tolerant person. He was no tyrant. Years of therapy had honed this in him, after all.

* * *

“Ehh, you’re not going to join us again, Furihata-kun?”

Akashi could hear Momoi’s disappointed voice just beyond his glass walls. He looked up from his laptop to see her leaning against Furihata’s desk with her coat on, her expression sulky.

“Sorry Momoi-san,” Akashi could just barely hear his assistant say. His voice was considerably softer than the pink haired receptionist’s. “I don’t think I should leave yet.”

“It’s not because of…” she tilted her head in Akashi’s direction. “Is it? Because you totally don’t have to stay for him.”

Furihata seemed to be chuckling, “I don’t mind, really.”

Akashi watched as Momoi said her goodbyes and hastily departed. Furihata hunched over in his seat and busied himself with something on his desk. From Akashi’s angle he could only see his back, but it looked like he was placing coloured post-it notes on a notebook of sorts.

Some time passed with them both working in silence.

Between nonsensical stories about a college he never attended, and the awkward silence that remained between him and Furihata, Akashi supposed the latter was significantly better. And although it had only been a week, he was surprised Furihata didn’t seem depleted in any way by his hectic schedule.

He was actually doing a decent job of staying on top of Akashi’s itinerary; Furihata was always on time and ready to accompany the president on his meetings, and he was determined to stay at the office as long as Akashi did. Which sometimes meant late nights, as Akashi wasn’t one to budge from his seat until his daily agenda saw completion. But sure enough, whenever Akashi glanced at the desk that was stationed just in front of his door – almost like a guard tower – Furihata was always there, alert and waiting for his call.

His first few days had been riddled with errors and apologies, but now Furihata was proving to be… well, _not terrible_.

(And, by process of elimination, this effectively meant Furihata Kouki was the best assistant Akashi ever had. The thought was absurd, really.)

It was nearing seven in the evening now and Akashi was still going over the Takigawa merger papers. Financial statements and legal documents were arranged in neat piles on his desk according to a system only he could make any sense of.

He had stopped to stretch his neck when a timid knock echoed through the room. Akashi’s eyes landed on the source; Furihata was half a step into his office, his apprehensive face paused at the door. He was holding what looked like a take-out bag.

“Sorry for bothering you, Akashi-san,” he spoke, finally entering the office. “I-I just noticed you haven’t eaten yet? And you skipped lunch, too.”

Akashi glanced at his watch. He hadn’t even noticed the time. Or his own hunger for that matter.

Furihata took small strides to his desk, “I hope you don’t mind but I ordered dinner for you.” He began to retrieve the contents of the take-out bag and place them on Akashi’s desk, a safe distance from his papers. His shaky hands nearly dropped one of the containers, but Akashi was quick to grab it before any damage could be done. He opened each of the boxes as he set them down.

It was your typical Japanese home-style dinner, of rice, katsu, miso soup, and various side dishes.

And in the midst of them, one particularly large container. It held what looked like at least four servings of hot tofu.

Furihata seemed to notice Akashi eyeing the dish.

“You like yudofu, right? I noticed you had it three times this week,” The brunette was quick to explain. “And I was looking at your schedule, you have a lot of meetings at that one really fancy yudofu place on the other side of town? I figured if you were willing to make the trek, it must be like a favourite for you, or something. Or that maybe you have some big sponsorship deal with them, and you’re forced to eat it all the time, and _oh my god_ ,” His rambling came to a sudden stop and he immediately raised his hands in distress, “If that’s the case I’m so sorry, I’ll take it back right away!”

“No, no, it’s nothing like that,” Akashi assured him, reaching for the chopsticks Furihata had set on his desk. They were the wooden kind you had to snap apart. Akashi couldn’t remember the last time he had to use these. “You were right, I am quite partial to it. I guess you can say it’s my favourite food,” He scanned the bevy of take-out containers before him. “Thank you for this, Furihata-kun.”

Although he wasn’t looking straight at Akashi, Furihata was smiling. It was shy, but genuine, like he was pleased with himself. “Well, enjoy your meal,” he said as he scampered out of the office.

Akashi’s eyes followed his assistant until he planted himself back in his own desk. No one knew Akashi’s favourite food, except for the chefs he grew up with in his family home. It’s not like anyone ever asked – he wasn’t exactly known to overshare with his employees.

It was such a minute, inconspicuous detail, but Furihata had caught onto it so easily.

* * *

“I’m so sorry! Please forgive me!”

Akashi was confounded, unsure if he should help his frantic assistant, or if it would only serve to make matters worse.

Furihata was on all fours, scrambling to collect a flurry of papers off the floor of Akashi’s office. To his side stood a distressed older man, one of the investors Akashi had just finished negotiating a deal with – one that hopefully hadn’t gone up in smokes the moment Furihata blindly opened the door into the businessman’s face. How Furihata managed to do that was beyond Akashi, given the fact that his door (and all the walls of his office) were entirely _transparent_.

The man was rubbing his nose, which had turned rather red, as he recovered the papers from Furihata, “No, it’s fine… _ow…_ ”

“Please allow me to get you some ice, sir!” The assistant cried before darting out the door and around the corner.

“I hope you’re alright, Yamaoka-san,” Akashi offered to the older man. “I do apologize on behalf of my employee.”

The man simply waved it off with a dismissive hand and Akashi excused himself to help Furihata with the ice, because quite honestly, he had no idea what to do in such a situation. Accidents were not a common occurrence in matters where Akashi was involved.

He had just turned into the nearby hallway, when a fast-approaching bustle of brown hair immediately caught his eye, and Akashi took a step back to avoid a second collision. It was a good thing his reflexes were so sharp.

Furihata, on the other hand, had been so startled by the close encounter, he was beginning to lose his footing, hurling himself backwards as a result.

Those keen reflexes being ever so dependable, Akashi reached forward and grabbed Furihata’s arm, saving him from his fall. A bag of ice slipped out of Furihata’s hands and crashed onto the floor. Akashi had pulled the other man towards him in an attempt to help him gain composure, and he was now only inches away from his assistant’s bewildered face. Furihata was burning an impossibly deep shade of pink. It felt like the warmth was spreading down to his arm, where Akashi could feel it through the sleeve of his dress shirt.

He stared down into the large, brown eyes that glistened as they peered back into his.

Akashi realized it was the first time that Furihata was looking him in the eyes.

“Are you alright?” He finally asked as he let him go.

“Yes! I’m sorry Akashi-san!” Furihata straightened up and promptly retrieved the ice from the floor. He bowed to Akashi before dashing back to his office.

After Furihata had scurried away, Akashi stood in the hallway, uncertain for the second time that day, of what to think or do. And Akashi Seijuurou was a person who _always_ knew the right words or course of action for any position he was put in.

* * *

The rest of Furihata’s imaginary probation went by without any other accidents. Though he was still rather jittery whenever he had to get close to Akashi, to deliver a coffee or a portfolio from Momoi. And Akashi had noticed that he wasn’t making eye contact with him again. But that was hardly a pressing matter compared to his performance, which, to Akashi’s astonishment, was surprisingly acceptable.

So, Furihata had survived the first two weeks, it seemed.

 _Well, that’s a relief_ , Akashi thought, because hiring a fourth assistant and having Momoi train them from scratch would’ve been time consuming, and counterproductive. And if there was one thing Akashi couldn’t allow, it was inefficiency.

Akashi was mulling all this over as he watched Furihata lean over his desk and type something in the search bar of an internet browser. He instantly noted how tense the other man was, and how constricted his movements were. It also looked like he was making sure not to get too close to Akashi.

“Okay, here it is, the Oha Asa website,” Furihata angled the laptop so Akashi could get a better view. “All the daily horoscopes are listed here, you just have to scroll down to find yours,” His fingers paused on the mousepad, “Um…”

“Sagittarius,” Akashi said, dryly. He never imagined such a topic would be of relevance to him, let alone a business meeting.

But Akashi had certain preparations to make before his lunch with the CFO of one of their subsidiary companies. Those preparations happened to entail reviewing his daily horoscope and trying to make sense of the questionable drivel. Because for some reason this particular green-haired individual he was meeting had a rapport for discussing such oddities at length.

“Oh, hey, your rank is first place today! I guess that’s a good thing?” Furihata mused and Akashi caught the shy smile that tugged at his lips. His eyes continued scanning the screen.

“What about yours?” Akashi ventured to ask, not entirely sure why.

“Me? Oh, I’m a Scorpio. Let’s see…” He chuckled quietly, “I’m second. Just one rank lower than you.”

Akashi smirked. The whole thing was rather ridiculous to him, “I suppose the two of us might be in for some good luck then.”

“Heh. Yeah, maybe.”

Furihata was still hovering over Akashi’s desk, trying to discern what a “lucky item” was and if Akashi would need to bring one to his meeting with Midorima. As it turned out, Akashi’s lucky item that day was a shamisen. When he leaned forward to get a better look at the gibberish on the screen, his shoulder brushed against Furihata’s elbow, causing a mild jolt in is arm. Akashi pretended not to notice.

Just like how he pretended not to notice how Furihata smelt like citrus shampoo and fabric softener, and how the scents blended together in a way that Akashi didn’t mind at all.

* * *

“Great, so we’ll see you there around eight!” Yamaoka shook Akashi’s hand with great enthusiasm before he left his office, careful to dodge Furihata on his way out. They had just finished fine tuning the investment contract between their companies that had been on the table for months. As was the custom with many old-fashioned Japanese businessmen, the only remaining hurdle was an outing with his associates, over dinner and drinks.

Although Akashi normally preferred to sit out these events and send a proxy in his stead, this was a particularly hefty deal that he knew he had to see through (it also hadn’t helped that Akashi’s assistant had almost knocked out Yamaoka’s front teeth at one point). He sighed and called Furihata into his office, instructing him to make a reservation for a party of five. Something upscale, but not with too many courses. He wanted to get the night over with quickly.

“Um, I think you might want to prepare for a long night, Akashi-san,” Furihata said, fidgeting with his tie as he spoke.

Akashi blinked, “What do you mean?”

“Well… I just noticed that the last time I saw Yamaoka-san he was wearing a wedding ring. But when he dropped by just now, he wasn’t wearing it anymore,” The brunette clarified, his gaze shifting to his feet. “Also, he picked a district that I know a lot of university students, and, well… a lot of young girls go to. I think he’s trying to go all out tonight, if you know what I mean.”

Akashi gaped at his assistant. The wedding ring was such a tiny but significant detail, and he was surprised he hadn’t noticed it himself. Yamaoka did seem a little _too_ excited about what should’ve been a simple business dinner. And if memory served him right, there was once a time when the older man's scandalous behaviour had stirred up some rumours in the past...

Perhaps Furihata had a talent for picking up on details. He had done the same with the yudofu, too.

“I see. That was an impressive observation, Furihata-kun,” Akashi remarked, and he could do nothing to stop the smile spreading on his face. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

When Akashi got into his car that evening, he instructed his driver to take him to his usual sushi spot. A Michelin star restaurant that had been around for almost a century. He pulled out his phone and selected Yamaoka from his contacts.

“Hello, Yamaoka-san, I hope you don’t mind but I was thinking of inviting your wife to our dinner tonight… Yes, well, I know that before her retirement she was a very close friend and confidant to my father… Oh, is that so? Well, in that case I know a wonderful establishment that we can go to instead… Yes, I’ll send you the directions now… See you soon.”

Akashi hung up, sent a text with the restaurant location pinned to it, and pocketed his phone. As he looked out the window of the car, he spotted a familiar figure leaving the Akashi Enterprises building at the same time.

Furihata had walked over to the bus stop across the street and plopped down on one of the metal benches. He was bundled in a fall coat, with a hoodie peeking out from underneath. His canvas backpack sat neatly on his lap. From where he sat in his car, Akashi could see the brunette’s cheeks turning rosy against the chilly Autumn air.

Whether he knew it or not, Furihata Kouki had just saved Akashi from a night he did not have any desire to partake in.

Akashi turned away from the window and smiled to himself.

Maybe he ought to trust Momoi’s judgment a little more.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to Characters Bible, yudofu (湯豆腐) is Akashi's favourite food (he totally would).
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the first chapter, thank you so much for reading! Next chapter will have even more angel!Furihata moments and Akashi being clueless where all matters of crushes are involved.


	2. Elevators, and Other Confined Spaces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I already have the majority of this fic mapped out so updates will (hopefully) be quick! Thanks to everyone who left kudos and comments on the last chapter, it’s really encouraging to know there are still others who love AkaFuri as much as I do. :)

Akashi was holding a steamy americano in a leather gloved hand, having just departed from a particularly renowned coffee shop that he liked to visit when he had time. Next to him was Momoi, who was sipping her chai latte with a cheerful expression as she walked with him to the office.

The early morning breeze was brisk against Akashi’s face. With his free hand he tugged at the scarf around his neck.

“I’m surprised you didn’t get your new assistant to hand deliver that to you,” Momoi remarked, a hint of teasing in her tone.

“Yes, well, although I do have the extra help now, I’d like to think I’m capable of walking to a café and grabbing a coffee myself,” Akashi said with a smirk.

“Furihata-kun is doing pretty well, isn’t he?” The pink-haired girl commented. She said it in a way like she was patting herself on the back for a job well done. “He’s lasted longer than the others. How long has it been now?”

“It will be two months soon,” Akashi replied. It was still a strange development to him, that the clumsy assistant had managed to stick it out for this long. Although he had shown surprising proficiency on more than one occasion, he was still a bit of a klutz whenever he let his nerves get the best of him. In fact, it was only last week when Akashi had asked Furihata for a cup of tea, only for the brunette to trip on his own feet before making it to his desk. The hot liquid would’ve been all over Akashi’s suit, if not for his reflexes hard at work again.

Momoi giggled, “I know the girls at the office are pleased about it.”

Akashi paused with his lips pressed to his coffee cup, “What do you mean?”

“You haven’t heard? Furihata-kun is rather… how do I put this, popular with the ladies?”

Akashi didn’t know what to make of that. He thought of the blundering assistant in a frantic fit of apologies as he mopped hot tea off the floor. “I’m not quite sure I understand.”

Momoi was grinning from ear to ear, “He might not look it at first, but once you get to know him it makes sense. Furihata-kun is the kind of sweet and gentle guy that girls can’t help crushing on. He’s so thoughtful, I can see why they find him charming.”

 _Charming?_ Akashi could acknowledge that Furihata was a decent looking young man (he had seen, while briefly glancing his file, that they were the same age), but he wasn’t exceptionally handsome. And it was hard to see what was so desirable about someone when you spent most of your interactions with them hoping they wouldn’t accidentally harm themselves. Or you.

Although, Akashi did agree that he was thoughtful. Furihata had proved more than once that he was genuinely concerned about Akashi’s well-being, often bringing him meals when he neglected to eat, or reminding him to wear a scarf before he left for a business meeting.

Then again, he was probably the last person to consider what qualities would make up a crush. Akashi wasn’t exactly familiar with the idea of _crushing on_ someone. He’d gone through the entire twenty-eight years of his life without experiencing those whimsical feelings he’d heard so much about. He wasn’t sure he’d ever feel that way about another person, and he wasn’t especially troubled by that fact either.

“Momoi,” he said, as they stepped into the Akashi Enterprises building. “May I ask you something?”

“What is it?”

“Why did you hire Furihata-kun?”

Momoi tilted her head, looking mystified by the question. Like the answer should’ve been obvious. “Why not? You saw his file, he has all the credentials,” she beamed as she scanned her ID card at the security turnstiles. “And I think he’s exactly what you’re looking for, Akashi-kun.”

* * *

“Furihata-kun, would you mind coming in here?” Akashi spoke into the receiver with a cool tone.

“Y-Yes, one second,” The brunette lowered his own phone and it fell out of his hand with a loud clatter. He leapt up from his desk and shuffled into the adjacent office. “What did you need, Akashi-san?”

The red head lifted a stack of papers and gestured for Furihata to take it, “The Accounting department should be expecting these. Would you please bring them down?”

Furihata reached for the paperwork, his eyes scanning the first page quickly, “Wow, you even look over balance reports?”

Akashi’s eyes took in Furihata’s fascinated expression, “Is that surprising?”

“Oh, I just thought you’d have someone else do that kind of stuff. Since you’re so busy and all…”

“Well, normally I wouldn’t see a need to, but those are quarterly,” Akashi explained, his gaze settling on his laptop screen. “I suppose I could have the department head review them, but I believe as a leader it would be negligent of me not to keep up with the company’s state of affairs.”

(Or maybe it was because Akashi was a perfectionist and he needed to make sure even something as miniscule as a balance report lived up to his standards.)

“Wow, that’s amazing,” Furihata said. When Akashi looked up again, he saw a captivated smile on the assistant’s face. “I don’t know how you find the time for it all.”

Akashi, feeling a little abashed for reasons he didn’t quite understand, merely cleared his throat. “Please request that Fukui-san review my notes when you drop those off.”

“Ah, yes, right away, Akashi-san!”

A few minutes had passed since Furihata had whisked out of Akashi’s office. When Akashi stood up to refill his glass mug with another helping of green tea, he noticed the lone sheet of paper lying forlorn at the foot of his door.

One of the balance sheets he had asked Furihata to take downstairs. _Of course_.

With a sigh, Akashi picked it up and glanced out at his assistant’s empty desk. Well, he could always bring it to Accounting himself. Akashi had been sitting at his desk for three hours straight now, his legs could use the exercise.

He had brought the abandoned report to Fukui on the Accounting floor and was heading back to the elevators now, noticing curiously that there was no sign of one Furihata Kouki. Had he already made it back to his desk? It hadn’t been that long since Akashi sent him off on the errand.

“Ne, Furihata-kun, you like omurice, right?” Akashi heard the peppy voice coming from a corridor by the elevators. There was a giggle in the woman’s tone as she spoke. “I heard from Nami-chan that it’s your favourite.”

His steps slowed to a halt and Akashi suddenly found himself skirting the hallway, just enough to be out of sight. When he peered into it, he saw Furihata standing in the corridor, along with three young women who seemed to be closing in on him at all angles.

“Yeah, it is,” the assistant said, a friendly smile brightening up his features. “I’m surprised Nami-san remembered.”

“Of course I did! How could I forget?” One of the girls laid a hand on Furihata’s arm.

Akashi immediately recalled his conversation with Momoi the other day. _Furihata-kun is rather… how do I put this, popular with the ladies?_ Well, judging by the scene playing before him, it appeared her observations were astute.

“I know the best spot for omurice, maybe we can go for lunch sometime?”

Furihata was still smiling, “I’d have to check Akashi-san’s schedule but sure, that would be nice.”

“Furihata-kun, thank you for helping me find the supply store the other day,” the shortest of the girls was speaking now and Akashi could see her face start to glow a tinge of red, “I’m such a scatterbrain, I always get lost when I take the underground path.”

“Ah, it’s no problem, really. I’m glad I could help.”

Akashi had never seen Furihata look so confident before. Since when had he become so easygoing and sociable at the workplace? The way he interacted with those girls, one might think he was capable of getting through a conversation without stuttering or fleeing for the door.

He pursed his lips, deciding this was hardly relevant to him and that he had much more pressing matters waiting at his desk. And he didn’t want to eavesdrop either; it wasn’t his place to be concerned with Furihata’s social life.

But as he rode the elevator back up to his floor, Akashi couldn’t help but wonder, if he was the only person Furihata felt uncomfortable around.

Something about it bothered him.

* * *

It was a couple days later when Akashi stepped into an elevator in the early morning and happened to notice a distinct head of brown hair scooting away from him. Furihata was standing idly in the foyer, his meager attempts not to look in Akashi’s direction making his display all the more obvious.

He was avoiding getting in the same elevator as Akashi.

Akashi had seen this happen before with other employees and could understand why someone wouldn’t want to be enclosed in a small space with their boss. Especially if that boss was Akashi Seijuurou. But this time, the sight of the nervous brunette trying to shake him off made Akashi’s jaw twitch in an unfamiliar way.

He placed his hand over the elevator frame, blocking the door from closing. “Furihata-kun,” Akashi called out. “Are you coming?”

“Huh? Oh, y-yes of course!” The young man recoiled for a moment before he sprang towards the elevator. “Thank you, Akashi-san!”

A silence came over them when Akashi noticed that Furihata was eyeing the coffee cup in his hand. He had time to spare in the morning, so he’d stopped by his favourite shop again. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said. “Should I have gotten one for you too?”

“No, it’s okay!” Furihata insisted in his frantic way. “I already had coffee at home before I left my place. It helps me not fall asleep on the bus.”

“I see,” Akashi replied. Although the seconds seemed to drag, the elevator ride was barely a quarter of the way to their destination. It was expected, since Akashi’s office was on the highest floor of their fifty-story building. Furihata had settled back into an uneasy silence. He was holding a blue notebook to his chest, the one that Akashi often saw him carrying around, with all the post-it notes inside.

He wasn’t sure why, but Akashi found himself thinking back to Furihata and the Accounting girls chatting in the corridor. The Furihata then seemed so sociable, and _relaxed_. Nothing like the bundle of nerves next to him right now. But the more he thought of it, the more it made sense. Akashi was familiar with the way most people (his employees, above all) reacted to his presence.

Growing up in a wealthy household, his refined upbringing made it difficult to relate to others. Since a young age, Akashi had been taught to keep those who didn’t fit into his sophisticated lifestyle at arm’s length. A product of his environment, he knew his stoic nature had closed more people off than allowed them in. And after his mother passed away (the only person who’d ever allowed him a break from all the tutoring and lessons), he had started to disengage from the world around him even more. He had a handful of friends he could talk to, but he found that most people were unable to connect with him, and he couldn’t blame them for it. So he understood why Furihata wouldn’t want to be in an elevator with him.

But just because he understood it didn’t mean he had to accept it.

Perhaps it was due to a lapse in communication, Akashi thought. Maybe it was up to him to _make_ Furihata feel comfortable, as his superior. Words could be an advantageous tool, after all, when used correctly.

Maybe, Akashi breathed, bridging the gap was only a matter of getting those words out there.

“Furihata-kun,” he uttered into the silence, “I think you’re doing a commendable job.”

“E-Eh?” Furihata had whipped his head in Akashi’s direction so quickly, it was as if he was reacting to an alarm going off.

“What I mean to say is,” he elaborated. “Your assistance has been a great help to me, and you have my appreciation. I look forward to your continued support.”

It took so long for Furihata to respond, Akashi thought he’d forgotten how to speak. He looked as if he was waiting for Akashi to resume the sentence, like there was a _but_ hanging onto the last word. When Akashi said nothing, Furihata finally murmured in a voice just above a whisper, “Thank you, Akashi-san…”

Alright, so maybe expecting some sort of profound conversation between the two of them was asking for too much, too soon. But Akashi couldn’t ignore the way Furihata’s eyes seem to light up for the rest of the elevator ride.

* * *

The next morning when Akashi arrived at his office, he found a fresh cup of coffee from his favourite café waiting at his desk. He picked it up and breathed in the aroma. An americano – his usual order.

Furihata was entering now, grasping a steel watering can by its handle, “Oh, good morning, Akashi-san.”

Akashi gestured to the coffee cup in his hand, “You noticed I like their coffee,” he said it as a fact, not a question. He wasn’t so surprised anymore, when it came to Furihata’s keen eye for details.

“Ah, yeah I did!” Furihata was smiling to himself as he watered the plants by Akashi’s windows. “I recognized the logo on the sleeve. That place is so fancy, I’ve always passed by it, but it was my first time inside today. It’s so much bigger than I thought!”

The grin on Akashi’s face had an air of both approval and amusement, “How did you know what my order was?”

“Huh? Oh, it was easy. I just asked them what you usually get.”

Akashi lifted a brow, “But they don’t know me by name there.”

“I know, I just said something like, _the red head in the super expensive suits_ , and…” Furihata stopped himself, and for a moment it looked like he was cringing at his own words, “Let’s just say you’re not hard to miss, Akashi-san. I think you catch everyone’s eye, wherever you go.”

Akashi wasn’t sure what that meant. His expression must have clued in Furihata, who immediately straightened up from hovering over the plants and he clutched the watering can to his chest. Like he was protecting himself from something, or someone.

“I mean that as a compliment of course! It’s not like you’re strange looking or anything! In fact, you’re probably the most handsome guy I’ve ever…” the words seemed to abandon him once again. His quivering eyes looked even more erratic than usual, like one false move would cause the man to bolt for the door. And that was exactly what he was doing. With quick, sideways steps, he was inching towards the exit as he mumbled, “Um… I-I think Momoi-san is calling me?”

Akashi hadn’t heard anything.

“I should go.” And before Akashi could blink, Furihata had disappeared from before him.

He couldn’t discern exactly how he felt about that exchange between them, but hours later, Akashi was still replaying it in his mind.

* * *

Akashi hadn’t slept in two days. The Takigawa merger was proving to be particularly grueling, with the other side trying to re-negotiate the contract to sway the terms in their favor. Now they were citing a legal clause that existed from a previous commitment between the two companies, that was made years before Akashi was even born and would entitle them to a larger share of profits than Akashi Enterprises was willing to accede.

This meant countless back-and-forths with his legal team with little to no progress, and now Akashi was knee-deep in paperwork trying to find said clause himself, cursing the digital age for being years too slow because _why was everything on paper back then?_

(He also couldn’t believe his team had missed such an important detail. Mayuzumi Chihiro, his general manager, had really dropped the ball on this one. This was why Akashi often elected to take on tasks himself, no matter how trivial they appeared.)

“Akashi-san,” the knock on his door came around ten p.m. Akashi knew there was only one other person in the office at this time.

He looked up from his hunched position on the floor. Akashi had moved from his desk to the rug in the middle of the room, papers and file boxes strewn before him in heaps (it was easier this way. Or maybe not. Maybe he looked crazy, but it _had_ been over 48 hours since he last slept).

“Furihata-kun,” Akashi addressed the brunette at the door, “You don’t need to stay on my account. Please, feel free to leave.”

Furihata was quiet for the briefest of moments, before he scooted into the office, the door shutting behind him. “What are you looking for? Maybe if we both go through all this together, we can find it sooner.”

Akashi could only observe as Furihata stooped opposite of him on the rug and pulled a file box towards his knees. He opened the lid and looked up at Akashi expectantly.

Akashi allowed himself a yielding sigh. He filled Furihata in on the merger issue and told him to keep an eye out for anything labeled “ _Akashi-Takigawa_ ”, particularly from a time period between 1984 – 1986.

“Got it,” Furihata said and began riffling through the box of papers.

“I hope you don’t feel obligated to stay, Furihata-kun,” Akashi repeated. He adjusted his position on the rug. His legs were beginning to fall asleep. “It is a Friday night, after all. I’m sure you have plans.”

“Not at all, unless you consider playing Counter Strike with my friends as _plans_ ,” Furihata snorted. He glanced at Akashi again when his remark hadn’t earned a reply. “Oh, you see, Counter Strike is – ”

“I know what it is,” Akashi coolly interjected, feeling a tad besmirched. “I don’t know if you’re aware, but you and I are the same age, Furihata-kun.”

“Ah, I may have heard that from Momoi-san…”

Akashi peered up from the document in his hand and saw Furihata looking back at him, an embarrassed smile gaining ground on his face.

Furihata had gotten better at making eye contact with him, Akashi noted.

It was something he’d detected about a week ago, following their encounter on the elevator. At first, he thought he was imagining it, but when Furihata had poked his head into his office one afternoon to ask if Akashi would like him to order lunch, he was almost taken aback by how staunchly those brown eyes were focusing on him. After that, the focus in Furihata’s eyes was beginning to feel like a familiar sight to Akashi, until he realized he’d become less astounded, and more expectant of his gaze.

Akashi knew that this development was in no small part due to his attempts at simply talking to Furihata more. It appeared the more Akashi made an effort to communicate with Furihata (and usually it was to extend some praise for the assistant’s hard work), the more Furihata was actually responding.

“How else do you spend your free time?” Akashi found himself asking, “Aside from online gaming.”

Furihata seemed startled by the question at first. He scratched the back of his head before finally answering, “I guess the usual stuff – watching movies, reading books. Oh, my friends and I like to try out trendy food spots. There’s this one foodie blog, we’re planning to hit up every restaurant they mention and try their signature dishes.”

“That sounds like quite the endeavor.”

“Heh, I guess so. I’ve found a lot of cool restaurants so far. I really like this new yakitori place in Shinjuku…”

Soon, Furihata was telling Akashi about his favourite omurice restaurant and the books he was reading at the moment (he was currently into the mystery genre). Furihata was explaining how he liked to read on his commute to work when Akashi realized a subtle shift in the atmosphere had taken place. It was like the Furihata in front of him was the same one from the corridor on the Accounting floor. For the first time since he started his role as Akashi’s assistant, Furihata was actually comfortable having a conversation with him.

“What about you, Akashi-san?” Furihata’s eyes had become inquisitive now. “What do you do with your free time?”

 _I don’t have free time_ , was what Akashi wanted to say, but he knew better than to sabotage their conversation when it was going so well. Thumbing through a new stack of papers, Akashi responded, “I’m quite fond of shogi; I usually play a few games if time permits. I also ride whenever I have a chance to go to the stables.”

Furihata was blinking at him. “Ride?” he echoed. “Like a horse?”

“Yes,” Akashi said. “A horse.”

He was talking about Yukimaru now, the white horse he had grown up with, and how he was planning to visit the stables at his family home before winter was upon them. The entire time Furihata looked at him like he was from another world, an incredulous smile on his face that made Akashi grin back with good humor.

A considerable amount of time had passed like this and when Akashi scanned the clutter of papers on the floor, he felt as if they had hardly made a dent in their search. It wasn’t surprising, as they had gotten carried away in their discussion about everything from horseback riding to how to make the perfect rice omelette. It must have been past midnight when Akashi saw Furihata yawning as he opened up another file box, the usual energy in his movements replaced with a discernable lethargy. Akashi remembered suddenly feeling rather warm as a drowsiness came over him as well. He was staring at a sheet of paper and watching it blur out of focus, unable to ignore the impassable weight falling over his eyelids…

It was a few hours before Akashi stirred awake, brought to consciousness by his own internal alarm. The sun hadn’t risen yet but since Akashi was usually up at this hour, his body was inclined to routine and he was soon lifting himself from the rug where he had dozed off.

He glanced at Furihata, who had also fallen asleep on the plush wool surface. He’d curled up next to a half-empty storage box and his shoulders moved to the pacing of his breathing, which came out in soft, rhythmic releases.

Akashi instinctively reached for his phone and checked his messages. There was an email from Mayuzumi, with a subject line that read, “ _Re: Takigawa_ ”. When Akashi opened it, he was relieved to discover their legal team had found the clause overnight and were now writing up a case to dispute it.

Akashi glanced at the time on his phone display. It was a bit past 5 a.m. He’d spent all-nighters at work before, but he’d never fallen asleep here, let alone on the floor of his office.

He looked again at his assistant, hesitating before he reached out to shake his shoulder, “Furihata-kun, wake up.”

“Huh… w-what…”

“We fell asleep,” said Akashi.

Furihata stared at him blankly for a whole of three seconds before clambering to his feet, his limbs firing in all directions as he did so. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and let out a deep exhale, “I have twelve missed calls.”

Akashi methodically moved to stand up as well, “Your girlfriend?”

“Oh, no, it’s my brother,” Furihata explained. “We share an apartment and I told him I’d be home for dinner last night,” then he added, “I don’t… have a girlfriend…”

“I see,” Akashi was picking up the papers from the floor now and organizing the file boxes into a small pile. Furihata quickly followed suit when he realized what the red head was doing.

“What about the Takigawa file?”

“No need,” Akashi replied. “It appears the legal team has already taken care of it.”

“Seriously?” Furihata was chuckling as he shoved the last of the papers into a box, “I guess we stayed up for nothing!”

Akashi crossed his arms as he considered what Furihata had just said. He wasn’t sure if he’d agree that it was _for nothing_. Akashi despised wasting time more than anything, but for some reason, last night hadn’t felt like such a waste.

He retrieved his phone again and began typing out a text. After sending it, he turned to his assistant, “Do you need a ride, Furihata-kun? My driver will be here shortly. He can take you home as well.”

Furihata looked reluctant as he declined the offer, “Oh, no, I couldn’t bother you, Akashi-san.”

“It’s no trouble at all, especially after how much you helped me last night,” Akashi walked over to his coatrack to collect his belongings. He draped his trench coat over himself and smiled at the brunette, “I’m simply returning the favor.”

Furihata was grinning, sheepishly, “It’s not exactly a favor if I’m doing my job.” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at his phone, contemplative before he allowed himself to speak again, “But sure. I don’t think the buses are running yet anyways.”

Akashi and Furihata were mostly quiet during the car ride. As the vehicle peeled away from the Akashi Enterprises’ building, there was a calmness that occupied the space between them. The sun was just beginning to rise and the night sky that hung over the city soon dissipated into a lush glow of orange. When Akashi finally looked over at Furihata, he saw that he was reading something on his phone with a deep concentration.

“Akashi-san,” he started to say, “I hope I’m not being nosy, but it seems like you haven’t been sleeping well the past few days… if at all,” Furihata shifted to meet Akashi’s stare. “Am I right?”

Akashi deliberated whether or not he should be truthful. But he decided there was no point in lying to someone who had just seen him pass out on a rug, “That’s correct.”

Furihata was frowning, “I just think it’s necessary, especially for someone as important as you are, to get enough hours of sleep. Look, this article says that severe sleep deprivation can cause your immunity to weaken and even put you at risk of heart disease! Not to mention memory issues and trouble with focusing, both of which will affect your work,” He was presenting his phone to Akashi now. Small text between diagrams of the human brain were displayed on a screen far too bright, it made Akashi’s eyes squint, “How many hours do you sleep, on a normal day?”

He thought about it before answering, “Three, I believe.”

“Three?! Are you serious? That’s not nearly enough!”

“I suppose it’s difficult for me to sleep when I feel like there’s so much to do.”

The brunette sighed, exasperated, “If you’re having trouble falling asleep, there are a lot of things that can help you. I heard a lot of people use a weighted blanket. It’s supposed to relieve stress and help you relax. Do you have one?”

Akashi shook his head.

Furihata’s frown deepened as he brought his phone back into his view, “I’ll look into it. But seriously, you should _really_ be sleeping more.” His hands were busy, tapping away at his device with intent, “I just think you need more rest, Akashi-san.”

It wasn’t long before they reached Furihata’s home, a rather plain-looking apartment building with an off-white exterior, nestled next to other residences that were similar in structure and colour. A convenience store and other small shops stood just down the road.

Furihata said his thank you’s before departing, bumping his head as he exited the car.

* * *

On Sunday morning, there was a parcel delivery to Akashi’s condo. He took the package to his living room, not quite knowing what to expect as he peeled the tape off the box and peered inside.

A weighted blanket. With no return address and no note attached.

That night, Akashi was sitting on his bed with his back against the upholstered headboard. His laptop perched on his lap, he was reviewing spreadsheets outlining the company’s financial projections for the next year. A buzz from his phone, settled next to his thigh, caught his attention and he picked it up to read the text on the screen.

It was Furihata, replying to the message he had sent him earlier, thanking him for the delivery:

_[12:03] No problem! I hope you sleep well, Akashi-san. I’m about to get into bed myself, goodnight!_

Akashi raised a brow and glimpsed the timestamp of the text message. It was only midnight; he was surprised that Furihata was already turning in. If he were to follow his usual routine, Akashi would be calling it a night in a couple hours.

He looked at the weighted blanket that sat neatly at the foot of his bed. It was a smart, and most likely safe, choice that Furihata had picked a dark grey one, as it happened to perfectly match the rest of his décor.

Akashi surveyed the spreadsheets before him again, a minute or two before he was back to eyeing the lump of grey fabric.

With a defeated sigh, Akashi snapped his laptop shut and unrolled the weighted blanket, throwing it over himself as he surrendered to his wide, king-sized bed. It didn’t feel that much different from a regular blanket. There was, Akashi noted, a little more pressure against him though. But he also didn’t feel like he was getting too warm underneath it.

He scrunched his face, doubtful that sleep would overcome him. This was the earliest Akashi had ever gone to bed since as far as he could remember.

It also didn’t help that his mind was doing gymnastics now and he was suddenly thinking about heart disease, and memory failure. Great, now Furihata had gotten into his head with his lecture on the importance of sleep. But when Akashi thought back to the upset in Furihata’s eyes when he told him he needed to rest, unable to mask his concern for him, Akashi felt his disposition soften and his body was quick to follow.

Under the weighted blanket, he felt calm, and soothed.

Furihata appeared in his mind again, images of those anxious brown eyes, and he wondered why he couldn’t shake the thought. But he didn’t really mind either.

Akashi fell into a deep sleep soon after, the best he’d had in years.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Other canon details that I love and wanted to include: omurice is Furihata’s favourite food, and Akashi’s white horse named Yukimaru.
> 
> Fun fact, I wrote the sleep deprivation conversation after staying up until 6 a.m... OTL And I really hope the corporate stuff made sense. If not... I'm so sorry...
> 
> Anyways, I’m super excited about the next chapter! Akashi spends the day with our favourite cinnamon roll and we’ll finally have some cameos (!!) too.


	3. Lessons on Flash Sales and Fine Dining

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for the kudos and comments! I loved writing this chapter so much, I hope you enjoy it as well. :)

Akashi had no idea how he did it, but Furihata had somehow managed to convince him to take the day off.

He looked at the clock on his nightstand – half past nine. Work had started more than an hour ago. Frowning, he laid indignant on his bed, wondering if he should try to fall back asleep or get up again. He’d been awake since a little before six, his body too in tune with his schedule to break the habit for one day. Akashi had already completed some of his morning tasks, including reading news articles and working out at his private gym. After a brisk shower and breakfast on the terrace, he had somehow wound up back in bed. It felt like he’d been up for so long, how was it still only nine a.m.?

His frown deepened as he recalled the conversation he had with his assistant only a few days ago.

“Akashi-san, you don’t have any meetings this Friday. And all the departments are finished with their quarterly assessments, which you’ve already reviewed,” Furihata was looking at his schedule, drafted neatly into that notebook of his, “I think you should take the day off.”

The red head barely looked up from his desk as he flipped through a file, “I hardly think there’s time to rest. We’ve barely broke ground on our real estate campaign.”

“According to Momoi-san, you haven’t had a vacation in years,” Furihata persisted. “You’re going to burn out at this rate. You already fell asleep here a couple weeks ago…”

His voice trailed off and Akashi could only grimace in response. He shook his head, “If I’m not working then what are you going to do? Correct me if I’m wrong, Furihata-kun, but since you’re my assistant, your work relies on me being here, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, I can come in and cover Momoi-san,” The brunette quipped. “She’s off for a week, remember?” Clearly, he had already thought this through. So much so, that Akashi was having trouble finding any leeway. “It’ll be good for you. You need to rest. And even if you don’t, it might help you to spend a day away from the office.”

Akashi was ready to dismiss the idea entirely when Furihata leaned over his desk, his determination unyielding. He was looking at Akashi with the same eyes that pleaded for him to sleep more during a car ride not long ago.

“Please, Akashi-san. At least say you’ll think about it.”

Since when had it become so difficult to say no to Furihata Kouki?

And that was how Akashi ended up in bed, at nine a.m., on a Friday morning.

He scowled, still miffed at the turn of events. Akashi was a busy man, perhaps one of the busiest men in the country, he couldn’t afford to take a break from work for _leisure_. It was an irrational decision and it almost seemed irresponsible even. But there he was, so easily swayed out of his principles, and by his personal assistant, no less.

What was it that Furihata said on Thursday evening before he left work?

_“Don’t worry, Akashi-san! The company won’t burn to the ground if you’re not here for one day!”_

Akashi wasn’t so sure if he could believe that.

But he knew one thing was certain. He wasn’t going to spend the day idly resting at home, being unproductive. Before he turned in for bed the night before, Akashi had prepared a brief itinerary for his day off – a to-do list of sorts. He pulled up the memo on his phone.  
  


\- Grocery shopping  
\- Decide on a Christmas gift for the staff  
\- Scout Ginza restaurant for investment potential




  
Akashi was aware he could send his housekeeper on a grocery run, and the other two points could easily be delegated to one of his personnel in the office, but then that would leave him with nothing to do today. And the thought alone made Akashi’s stomach curl with unease.

But, he thought, perhaps he could use some assistance. It’d been a long time since he’d gone to purchase groceries or visited the department store for that matter. He might even feel out of place, trying to navigate such tasks on his own.

He’d need some help. And well, what were personal assistants for if not to relieve with their services.  
  
Akashi tapped on his contacts and selected his office’s front desk. It was a couple rings before a startled voice answered.

“Furihata-kun,” Akashi said, rising to his feet to leave his bed behind, “As it turns out, I will require your assistance today.”  
  


* * *

Akashi arrived at the office building a little past noon, pulling up to the front doors in his black Mercedes. Normally, he’d have his driver take him around, but the reason for that was because Akashi liked to go over his work in the backseat. But today, there were no spreadsheets, no emails to attend to. Plus, it’d been so long since he last drove, he was starting to feel rusty.

He texted Furihata that he was out front, and in mere seconds, the brunette was scuffling out of the building, backpack over his wool coat and white sneakers on his feet.

“Good morning, Akashi-san,” Furihata huffed as he took the passenger seat next to Akashi. For a moment, his eyes took in the interior of the car and his lips parted, mouth hanging just slightly ajar. “Wow, this is your car?”

“One of my cars,” Akashi stated, a small grin staking claim on his face. Did that sound arrogant? What was it about Furihata’s expression that made him want to brag, if only for a little?

Furihata shook his head, as if snapping out of a daze. “So where are we going?”

Akashi handed him the grocery list he had written back at his condo and put the car into motion, merging with the afternoon traffic. “I usually have my staff tend to such matters, but since _someone_ ,” his eyes flickered to the brunette, “has effectively banned me from the office, I thought we could handle it ourselves.”

Furihata’s chuckle was timid, knowing that Akashi was alluding to him, “Sounds good. Do you have a place you usually go to for groceries?”

Akashi pursed his lips. He actually wasn’t sure where the housekeepers purchased his necessities.

“Okay,” Furihata continued, noting the silence. “Then we can stop at the mart I go to. Don’t worry, it’s not one of the cheap places,” he added, sounding embarrassed again. “Just a generic supermarket.”

* * *

Well, it certainly was generic. It was not unlike any other supermarket – brightly lit, stocked to the brim with various foods and household essentials, and shoppers moving like drones behind their carts. It wasn’t too crowded however, as it was still the middle of the day, so the aisles were mostly empty. But Akashi observed that it was certainly different from the specialty shops his family normally visited. In his memories of various shopping trips with his mother, there were always separate shops; one for meats, another for produce, and a bakery for bread.  
  
“Look, Akashi-san, this brand is on sale,” Furihata was holding a pack of paper towels.

“I don’t think that’s on my list,” Akashi commented.

Furihata placed two rolls in the shopping cart anyways, smiling to himself, “Yeah, but it’s always wise to stock up when the good stuff goes on sale.”

Akashi didn’t know if he should remind Furihata that he owned a multi-million-dollar business. But he said nothing and let him continue loading the cart with paper towels instead.

Grocery shopping with Furihata was essentially how Akashi expected it to be. Furihata located each item on Akashi’s list (opting for the sale items, or what he deemed was the best value) while Akashi trailed behind with the shopping cart. At one point, Furihata had accidentally knocked down half a mountain of green apples, and they had stopped to pick them off the floor until the staff told them they’d take care of it. Furihata’s face was flushed a stark red as he apologized profusely to Akashi, who just wanted to keep moving before too many customers were staring at them.

“I think we’ve got almost everything,” Furihata said, double checking the shopping list. “The only thing I couldn’t find was the beef. This place doesn’t exactly have the, uh, premium stuff that I guess you’re used to…”

“That’s alright. I can ask my staff to pick it up another time,” Akashi reassured. He noticed that Furihata looked rather distracted now, as his eyes scanned the various packages of meat on the refrigerated shelves. “Furihata-kun?”

“Oh, sorry, I was just thinking how I haven’t had my mom’s ginger pork in so long. After I moved out, I started to miss her cooking more,” the smile on his face looked reminiscent. “Do you have something like that? A favourite dish that your mom makes?”

Akashi didn’t immediately respond. It was always awkward for him to talk about this, no matter how much time had passed. Mostly due to the other party’s reaction – guilt, shock, and usually pity. Akashi picked up a carton of eggs that had been lying awkwardly in the shopping cart and realigned it properly. When he finally spoke, he thought his voice sounded distant, even to himself, “She passed away when I was a child. I don’t particularly remember her cooking.”

When Akashi looked over at Furihata, he was staring back at him with a solemn expression, a mild alarm in his eyes. He opened his mouth but closed it right away. Akashi assumed he was trying to find the right words but couldn’t (though, Akashi told himself, he’d never seen a _correct_ way of reacting to this).

“I, um, I’m so sorry…” he eventually said.

“It's alright, you didn't know.”

This was exactly what Akashi wanted to avoid.

He let out a sharp exhale. Hoping to change the subject, Akashi walked over to a small table that had caught his attention earlier. A tray of fried dumplings was placed on it, each cut in half, with a toothpick protruding. Furihata followed him with his eyes and Akashi gestured to the table, “Are we allowed to eat these?”

“Oh, y-yeah, those are samples!” Furihata hurried to his side. Akashi picked up one of the dumpling halves and offered it to him. “Hey, it’s pretty good,” Furihata said, though his voice was still hesitant and low.

Akashi mustered a smiled after he tried one of the samples himself, “Yes, it’s not bad at all.”

“Furihata-kun?”

A feminine voice called out his name and Furihata whipped around, his demeanor as jumpy as Akashi had known it to be. There was a girl with a pixie haircut just a few steps away from them. She was clinging to the arm of a dark-haired man who wore wired glasses and was pushing a shopping cart.

“Coach!” Furihata blurted, his tone changing with the excitement that came over him. It was then that his eyes veered to the man next to her, and his jaw dropped, “H-Hyuuga-senpai?” Furihata’s head bounced back and forth between the two of them, “Since when were you two…?!”

The man wearing glasses was blushing a bright red as he muttered, barely audible, “I-It’s been a while actually…”

The three of them chatted for several minutes, catching up on general details of their lives, like work, and how their mutual friends were doing. Akashi couldn’t help noticing the way the couple was stealing glances at him and he recalled what Furihata had said about him catching people’s attention. And something else about him being “the most handsome guy” Furihata had ever seen, if he remembered that part correctly…

“Sorry about that, Akashi-san,” Furihata apologized when the couple had left.

Akashi was stirred out of his thoughts, “No need to apologize. Were those acquaintances of yours?”

“Ah, yeah, senpai from my high school,” Furihata explained. He told Akashi about how they were members of the basketball club together, and that his high school wasn’t too far from the mart. “Where did you go to school, Akashi-san?”

“Kyoto,” Akashi replied. For some reason he added, “I didn’t participate in any clubs though, other than student council. There wasn’t much time to spare as I was usually in lessons with my at-home tutors.”

“Wow,” Furihata said, the word coming out like a gasp, “I guess that’s why you’re so successful.”

Akashi wasn’t sure what part of what he said was impressive, but he decided not to ask. Instead, as the brunette walked ahead of him, bee-lining for the cash registers, Akashi found himself wondering what Furihata was like in high school.

Since they were the same age they would’ve been in the same grade, had they attended school together. And maybe even the same class, he mused.

It was a curious idea, thinking about what it would’ve been like if they had met at another time.

* * *

As Akashi drove the two of them to their next stop, an upscale department store on the other side of town, he was suddenly very aware of Furihata’s eyes on him. When they reached a red light, Akashi turned his head to give his attention to his assistant.

“Is something wrong?”

“N-nothing!” Furihata stammered, fixating his stare on the dashboard instead. “It’s nothing…”

Akashi thought it was a peculiar reaction, but again, he didn’t prod. “I hope you don’t mind accompanying me for my next obligation,” he spoke. “I usually have one of the managers handle the staff’s Christmas gift, so I haven’t put any particular thought into it yet.” Of course, buying online was an option, too, but ever the perfectionist, Akashi preferred to assess the quality of his choices himself.

Furihata was shaking his head, “You know, it’s not really a day off if you’re still working, Akashi-san…”

“If I remember correctly, it wasn’t my idea to take any time off in the first place,” Akashi was grinning as he said this. He couldn’t resist the impulse to tease when he saw the way Furihata tensed at the accusation. “So forgive me if I’m not exactly well rehearsed in the concept.”

“… I-I guess that’s true…”

Akashi’s eyes flickered from Furihata to the road, still smiling, “Maybe you can tell me how one is supposed to spend a day off.”

“Well the obvious thing to do would be to sleep in,” The brunette declared, fidgeting with the backpack on his lap. “Then I’d probably just lounge around my place… play some games, watch TV, you know, the usual stuff…” Furihata paused. “… and I’m guessing from your expression that you did none of that.”

Akashi hadn’t realized the way his face had stiffened. He cleared his throat, “I see. And that’s how you’d spend the entire day?”

“Hmm, not always. I don’t like being too unproductive, because then I feel like I’ve wasted my day,” Furihata resumed. “I’d probably do some chores, like, clean the house, do the laundry… but you probably have someone to take care of those things, right?”

He delayed before nodding, “The housekeeping staff would be responsible for those matters.”

“Right,” Furihata said with a chortle. “Sometimes it feels like you exist on another dimension, Akashi-san.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just that your life seems so extravagant and awesome,” The assistant explained, hands still preoccupied with the fabric of his bag. “Nothing at all like my boring life.”

Akashi considered for a couple seconds what Furihata had said. “If I have some free time, I don’t terribly mind doing chores myself,” he stated, thoughtfully. “Sometimes I cook.”

“Really?” Akashi was still focused on the road, but he could feel Furihata’s gaze shifting to him again. “What can you make?”

“Japanese food is not exactly my forte, but I believe my attempts at Italian were quite acceptable,” Akashi replied, remembering his previous ventures in the kitchen. “Although I should probably pay more attention to the recipes. Every time I make pasta, I find that – ”

“You end up boiling way too much!” Furihata was pointing a finger at him, beaming, a cheeky awareness in his smile.

Akashi chuckled, “Yes.”

“Haha! So that happens to you, too! And then it’s like, what do I do? Invite twenty other people to eat with me? Feed an entire country?” Furihata was laughing now and the sound of it was so bright, and so natural, that Akashi felt it was a pity he hadn’t heard it much before then.

* * *

The department store was a rather lavish venue, with shelves that boasted only the most expensive appliances and clothing collections by the priciest designer brands (much more conforming to Akashi’s experiences). There was a grand Christmas display on the main floor, with white lights and imitation snow creating a Winter Wonderland of sorts. A tree embellished with diamonds stood at the center of it all.

“Hmm,” Furihata was furrowing his brows as he and Akashi maneuvered through all the splendor. It wasn’t necessarily busy, but with the holidays just around the corner the turnout was slightly larger than Akashi was used to. “It’s a lot trickier than I thought, choosing a gift that thousands of people will like.”

“Yes, it’s hardly a simple task,” Akashi agreed as he picked up a set of silk pajamas. He peered over at Furihata. “Well, you’re a member of the staff. What would you like to receive?”

“Me? Hm… something practical, maybe? Like it’d be great if I could get a lot of use out of it,” The assistant was scouring the bedding section when he suddenly straightened up, as if an idea had struck him, “Um, how about a weighted blanket?” he said, timidly, “Do you like the one I sent to you?”

Akashi thought about the blanket that was lying neatly on his bed at that very moment. He’d definitely seen the merits of it. Though it was still difficult for him to break out of the habit of sleeping late, at least when he did eventually climb into bed, his head didn’t feel like such a crowded place anymore. He was falling asleep with a little more ease these days.

“I do,” he nodded. “It’s certainly been helpful. I think it would be an excellent gift, too.”

There was a delight in the smile that emerged on Furihata’s face that made Akashi take a second look. His expression was as if he’d just received the highest of praises. To others it may have been a small accomplishment, but he was proud of himself.

It made Akashi wish he had said more.

“That’s great… I’m glad it worked out,” Furihata’s smile didn’t let up as he and Akashi found the blanket collection. He was reaching towards a dark grey comforter, one that resembled the blanket in Akashi’s condo, when Akashi felt his hand instinctively move on its own.

“Not that one,” He asserted. He had grabbed Furihata’s wrist, stopping him, before he even knew what had happened.

“O-oh… did you not like the color, Akashi-san?”

“No, it’s perfect.” _For me_. He quickly released the brunette’s arm and began straightening an imaginary crease in his coat. Now he had to explain why he just did that. “I’m just not sure some of the older staff will approve. Perhaps we should choose something brighter.”

“Ah, that makes sense,” Furihata chimed. “My mom always says that I look gloomy when I wear grey.”

He eventually picked out a red plaid design – it felt appropriate for Christmas and most importantly, Akashi thought, it wasn’t the same one Furihata had personally picked out for him.

Furihata was at the service counter handling the details for their bulk order as Akashi paid with the company credit card. He would have the blanket prepared with a couple wine bottles, whatever electronic device was trending lately, tickets for a sporting event, and a few gift cards – the usual Christmas stocking stuffers that were anticipated for a company of their magnitude.

When they set about exiting the store, a man with a cheeky smile and slick, black hair suddenly approached them. He had strutted over from the men’s fashion department and was sizing up Akashi, eyes flashing with dollar signs as if he’d found his prey.

“Good day to you, sir,” The man greeted, a lilt in his voice. “Can I interest you in some items from our fall-winter line? Ah, my name is Takao by the way. The pleasure’s all mine.”

Akashi had seen this dance before. He supposed he was an obvious target, as any person with considerable knowledge of designer clothing could see that Akashi was dressed to the nines. He frowned, eager to end the interaction, “That’s quite alright, I’m actually about to leave – ”

“Nonsense!” The man named Takao insisted. He had a hand on Akashi’s back now and was leading him towards an assemblage of pricey suits. “It’s the holidays! Why not treat yourself?”

“I really don’t think that’s necessary,” Akashi said, voice stern as he looked over his shoulder to find Furihata. He’d lost his assistant in the midst of being dragged away by the salesman.

Takao was following Akashi’s line of sight before his tone had changed to a hushed whisper, “Ah, or perhaps you want to splurge on your… _partner_? Don’t worry, this is a judgment free zone.”

Akashi could only gawk at the man, utterly baffled by the assumption, but most of all by the strange way his ears had started to heat up.

“I beg your pardon, but that’s my associate you’re referring to,” Akashi admonished. He was counting his blessings, though, that Furihata wasn’t around to hear any of this.

“Uh-huh,” a knowing smirk appeared on Takao’s face. “Say what you will, but I think your friend would look quite dashing in a new three-piece suit.”

Akashi let out an exasperated sigh before quickly shaking off the salesman and leaving to locate Furihata. When he finally found his assistant, he was standing in front of a glass case in the men’s department, staring fixedly at the contents inside.

As Akashi drew closer, he could see that Furihata was eyeing a fine leather briefcase. It was stylish and sleek, not unlike the ones Akashi and his colleagues at work carried. Akashi then remembered that Furihata always wore a backpack to work. His style was on the more modest side – simple fitted suits, solid colour ties, and that plain, canvas bag slung over both shoulders.

On the other hand, Akashi always dressed exceptionally, in luxury brand suits, with accessories to match. His father had taught him that presentation was of the utmost importance, everything down to the clothes one was wearing. Even now, on his day off, he’d opted to wear a dress shirt and one his more expensive pairs of slacks (although he’d abandoned the tie for today).

He’d never been familiar with the idea of wanting something and not having the means to obtain it.

As they passed by the Christmas display on their way out, Furihata had stopped in his tracks again. His eyes swept over the entire spectacle and a silence came over him, like he was lost in a thought. When Akashi followed his gaze, he realized that he wasn’t staring at the display anymore, but rather the families and couples, swarming the Christmas tree to pose for photos. It was a moment before he appeared to snap out of his thoughts and he immediately faced Akashi with an embarrassed smile. His cheeks were tinged in the slightest hue of pink.

“Ah, sorry, Akashi-san! I got distracted for a second.”

“Did you perhaps want to take a photo?” Akashi gestured his head to the tree.

“N-no, it’s okay!” Furihata was chuckling, face burning just a little brighter, and he grasped the straps of his backpack, “Don’t worry about it, let’s go!”

* * *

It was still a bit early for dinner, but as Akashi had skipped lunch and there was only one item left on his itinerary, he informed Furihata that their next destination would be a restaurant in Ginza.

Judging by the way Furihata stood flabbergasted at the entrance, Akashi realized he probably should’ve prefaced that they weren’t just stopping at any restaurant, but rather, one of the most luxurious dining spots in the high-end district. It was a Japanese-French fusion restaurant, one that the company was considering pouring a sizeable investment into. The kind of eateries Akashi was accustomed to dining at all his life.

“Well?” The wait staff opened the doors for them to enter and Akashi smiled back at Furihata, “You said you like to try out new spots, didn’t you?”

“Y-Yeah, but I meant ramen shops, or like, an izakaya!” Furihata’s voice was shaking with awe as they were led to their table. His eyes raced to take in every inch of the restaurant, every little detail from the fancy cutlery, to the lofty windows that framed the vibrant cityscape. “This is… I’ve never been to anywhere like this before…”

When their menus arrived, Furihata was so bewildered by the choices, he was having a hard time making a decision. Although Akashi was also a first-time guest, he had already done some research into the venue as part of the company’s investment agenda. He offered to order on Furihata’s behalf, settling on a four-course meal that included their widely acclaimed duck foie gras and poached lobster.

“Signature dishes, right?” Akashi grinned as he handed the menu back to the waiter.

“Man, Fukuda and Kawahara are never going to believe this…” Furihata gaped, a child-like wonder still present in his tone.

Each time their plates arrived, Furihata snuck a quick photo with his phone, checking the first time with Akashi if it was alright. Akashi was still smiling as he insisted he go ahead. When Furihata dug into his lobster entrée, an almost euphoric look washed over his face and Akashi tried his best to hold back the laughter brewing in his chest.

Akashi wondered, as he cut into the beef on his plate, if Furihata had also realized this was their first time eating together.

“That was the best meal of my life,” Furihata still looked like he was in a daze when they left the restaurant. The dreamy glint in his eyes made Akashi believe he actually meant it, that it was no exaggeration.

“I’m pleased to hear you enjoyed it,” Akashi said, matching Furihata’s sincerity with his own.

* * *

Having completed every item on Akashi’s itinerary, their last stop was Akashi’s condo, as Furihata had offered to help him bring his groceries upstairs. Standing in the vast hallway of the top floor, Akashi tapped in the number PIN to unlock the door of his unit.

Furihata nearly stumbled on his way in, too engrossed by the scene he had just stepped into. His jaw was having trouble staying closed and the same astonishment that befell him at the restaurant had returned.

“You live here?” He was staring at Akashi now, stunned. Akashi simply nodded. “It’s… it’s… huge!”

Akashi knew that was an understatement. He lived in the penthouse of his condominium, so his dwelling took up two entire floors of the building, with bedrooms on the upper level, and a spacious terrace that expanded into something of a rooftop garden. The main floor was adorned with polished, high-end furniture against dark grey walls, and the windows stretched from floor to ceiling, illuminated by the lights of Tokyo at night. It wasn’t nearly as grand as his mansion in Kyoto, and rather modest for the president of a large corporation, but Akashi enjoyed the privacy. He was alone here most of the week, with the housekeepers only dropping by every few days, and any other guests being a rare occurrence.

After they had sorted the groceries into Akashi’s kitchen and pantry, Akashi took Furihata on a quick tour of his home, at the assistant’s bashful request. Furihata was growing more and more astounded with every room he peeked into, but the one that rendered him speechless was the indoor spa, complete with massage tables and mini sauna room. Akashi felt the familiar laugh that had bubbled within him at the restaurant close to spilling out again. There was something quite refreshing about Furihata’s reactions that was enjoyable to watch – it was all so honest, and innocent. But there was never the slightest hint of envy.

Akashi thought that he’d never tire of this.

After some time, he checked his watch. It was still only nine p.m., not late at all for a Friday.

“I can take you home shortly if you wish,” he offered to Furihata. “but if you’d like to stay for tea – ”

“Oh, allow me to do it, Akashi-san!” The brunette urged, rushing over to the kitchen area. “It’s the least I can do, with you driving me and all!”

He had moved so seamlessly towards the tea station, it was hard to believe this was his first time at Akashi’s place. Did Furihata ever switch out of assistant mode?

Akashi settled onto the living room couch, his back to the kitchen, and the amused smile from earlier never quite leaving his lips. He could hear some shuffling from behind him and the eventual gurgling of the kettle. The only other visitors he’d welcomed into his home before were his father, some friends from middle and high school, and Mayuzumi whenever their work persisted into the weekend. But it didn’t feel strange, or intrusive, having Furihata there. Rather, it felt almost… pleasant.

“Akashi-san, do you want green or oolong – ahh!”

A sudden crash, the sound of glass against tile, jolted Akashi out of his calm, and he was in the kitchen next to a crouching Furihata before he knew it.

“A-ah… s-sorry, Akashi-san…” Furihata was hovering over a broken mug, boiling water pooling around the glass. His face twisted in pain and it was almost as if he was shrinking into himself. It took a second for Akashi to notice the palm of his right hand was glowing a fierce red. “Y-your mug…”

“Nevermind that,” Akashi said gruffly, reaching for Furihata’s wrist. He winced at his touch, and Akashi immediately recoiled, before finally taking Furihata’s hand in his with a gentle hold. Akashi was staring at the scorched skin, his jaw tightening. It dawned on him then that the blunder didn’t make him feel annoyed, or exasperated, but rather, the feeling that came over him was of genuine concern.

Akashi was wrapping up Furihata’s burned hand over the kitchen island, a first aid kit opened on the counter. Furihata hadn’t spoken another word since the accident, only allowing himself a flinch when Akashi spread ointment over his palm. As Akashi tightened the gauze, careful not to apply too much pressure, he noted the tremor in Furihata’s hand, and he knew it wasn’t due to the pain.

“I-I’m sorry, Akashi-san…” Furihata finally managed to utter.

“Like I said, there’s no need to apologize – ”

“No, I mean,” Furihata bit his lower lip as his eyes traced the surface of the quartz counter. “I… I’m always causing you trouble. I’ve always been kind of clumsy, but when I’m around you, I just… keep messing up…”

Akashi listened as he finished with Furihata’s hand, who was still not facing the red head. There was a brief pause before he continued.

“When we first met, you didn’t look very impressed… I’m kind of used to it, I think everyone sort of expects me to be a screw up. But I really didn’t want _you_ to think that of me… sometimes when I’m around you, I just get so afraid that I’ll mess up in some catastrophic way and I won’t be able to redeem myself…”

That certainly explained a lot. Akashi recalled all the times it seemed like Furihata was itching to flee from his presence. Although he’d improved drastically over the past couple weeks, and he was actually making eye contact with Akashi now, even holding his own in a conversation, it sometimes felt like there was still an uneasiness between them. Like the moments of normalcy were so precarious, they could be shattered by the slightest of touches.

“Is that why you avoided being on the same elevator as me?”

“… So you did notice that…” Furihata looked apologetic. “It’s not like I wanted to avoid you, it’s just… when I think about all the possible ways I’ll mess up in front of you, I get so nervous and I end up making all these stupid mistakes anyways…”

Akashi was deliberating everything Furihata had just said to him, unsure of the proper way to respond. He didn’t exactly know how to console another person. But he didn’t want Furihata to feel badly either – he’d seen firsthand how far he’d come from the bundle of nerves who once couldn’t look him in the eye.

“I think,” he started, hoping the words would find him. “You’re not giving yourself enough credit, Furihata-kun. Yes, there were a number of… errors since you came on board as my assistant, but like I said before, I believe you’re more than competent. And perhaps you haven’t noticed it yourself, but I think you’ve become rather confident around me. After all, who was it that demanded I take a day off?”

A smirk found its way to Akashi’s lips and Furihata was finally looking back at him, eyes wide with uncertainty.

“R-Really? You think so?” He stammered.

“Well, you survived today with me, didn’t you?”

Furihata blinked, “I guess… I did feel a little more comfortable lately…”

Akashi let out a sigh that he’d been holding, “Furihata-kun, you’ve helped me a great deal and I wouldn’t have you around if I didn’t think you were a capable individual. Your work ethic is unquestionable, and your attention to detail has been impressive, to say the least. Also I… I quite enjoy your company.”

He didn’t know if he meant to say that last part. But somehow the words had taken form and slipped out before he even had a chance to wrap his head around them.

He was glad he said it though, because the apprehension in Furihata’s face had almost entirely faded, leaving a look of relief and an underlying embarrassment. “I’m happy to hear that. Honestly, you’re like the most amazing person I’ve ever met, sometimes you don’t even seem real… Plus, this job is awesome, I never imagined I’d get to work at _the_ Akashi Enterprises,” a shy smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, “And… I really like spending time with you, too, Akashi-san.”

Akashi wasn’t sure why, but all of a sudden packing up the first aid kit was requiring all his attention and the chance of looking up to see _that_ smile was causing an odd sensation in his stomach. Just like back at the department store, he felt a peculiar warmth on the sides of his face, rising all the way to his ears again.

And he was all too aware of the citrus scent from beside him, a fragrance that had become so familiar whenever Furihata was around. It was sweet, and comforting, and it overwhelmed his senses so much so that the smell of burn ointment was long gone. And Akashi thought, for the briefest of moments, that it wouldn’t be a terrible thing, if his home smelled like this all the time.

* * *

“Hey, look, it’s snowing!”

As Akashi pulled into the driveway of Furihata’s apartment complex, the brunette rolled down the window and was craning his head towards the sky. A cold breeze swept in and filled the car as it came to a stop by the dimly lit residences. Sure enough, specks of white were coming down in a spiraling descent, but there was still a calmness to it, a delicacy in their fall.

“It’s the first snowfall of the season,” Furihata said, his voice breathy.

Akashi looked over at him and he felt a curious pang in his chest.

For some reason, he didn’t want Furihata to leave yet.

Suddenly, Akashi was remembering the Furihata who stood staring in silence at the Christmas display in the department store. That pensive look on his face, the way his stare had become so adrift, almost distant. It made Akashi wish he could somehow read his mind.

“Thanks for the ride,” Furihata mumbled as he turned to meet Akashi’s eyes. He held his gaze for what felt like a second too long and Akashi could’ve sworn that in that moment, he was hesitating, too. But the second was over before he could make anything of it, and Furihata was soon climbing out of the car.

“Have a pleasant night,” Akashi said before he watched Furihata disappear into the building, and for the first time that day, he felt the emptiness of the vacant seat beside him.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so the grocery shopping scene is actually one of my AkaFuri headcanons, right down to the paper towels. I even posted it on my tumblr years ago, but it’s just so cute I couldn’t resist including it. And I know I said cameos and we haven’t seen the other GOM (yet?) so I hope I didn’t disappoint anyone! The next chapter should be up shortly, and let’s just say it’s “the most wonderful time of the year.” :)


	4. And Hearts Will Be Glowing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for the kudos and comments. I like to think of the previous chapter as Akashi and Furihata’s first date, so hearing that you guys found it cute made me think I did _something_ right. :)

Christmas.

Akashi had never had any special feelings towards the holiday. He could understand the grounds for excitement though – time off work, a chance to be with loved ones, food and gifts aplenty – but as someone who basically worked every day of the year, spent most of his time alone, and could indulge in the finer things whenever he pleased, he was mostly indifferent. Christmas had always felt like every other day, but with just a little more cheer and a bit less dread in the air.

But as Akashi stood at the service counter of a department store, handing over a leather briefcase to be gift-wrapped, there was a strange anticipation in him that hadn’t been there before. It was like all the festivities, the decorations, the merriment around him weren’t so trivial anymore.

“Merry Christmas,” the woman behind the counter presented an intricately wrapped box to Akashi. A black ribbon with silver trimming was strung tightly around a neat white encasing. There was a deep green pine tree sprig nestled at the center.

Akashi smiled as he took the box with him.

Before he departed the shopping center, he stopped to survey the Winter Wonderland display that had caught a certain assistant’s attention not long ago. It was definitely impressive. The white prop trees and silvery lights against the vast blue backdrop formed a spectacle to behold.

Maybe Akashi was actually looking forward to Christmas this year.

* * *

“Akashi-san,” Furihata handed a vanilla folder to the red head, “Here are the minutes from your meeting.”

“Thank you, Furihata-kun,” When Akashi reached for it, he caught sight of the white bandage on Furihata’s palm. “How’s your hand?”

Furihata looked startled by the question before his face gave way to a small smile, “Ah, it’s pretty much healed! I don’t think it’ll leave a scar either, since you treated it so quickly… thanks again…”

“I’m relieved to hear that,” Akashi said, a lightness in his tone.

“By the way, it looks like the blankets were a hit,” Furihata mused, gaze flitting over his shoulder to the bustling office beyond the glass walls. The gift baskets the company had prepared for the employees were sitting atop most of the desks, cellophane wrap messily discarded to their sides. Akashi had heard the excited chatter earlier that morning when they were being opened. “Everyone is in such a good mood after receiving their Christmas gift.”

With Christmas only a few days away, the holiday spirit amidst the company was impossible to ignore. Momoi had transformed the floor into what resembled a scene from a Christmas movie; everything from garland to ribbons, to a handmade banner that spelled _Happy Holidays_ strung up in the foyer. She had even convinced Akashi to put up a small Christmas tree in the corner of his office. And although Akashi conceded to watching from his desk as Furihata helped the receptionist decorate it, he couldn’t help but offer his two cents every now and then:

“I believe the gold ornament would look better up front,” he had inserted, eyeing the commotion over his laptop. “And it appears the star is crooked, Furihata-kun.” (Although the other two had insisted it wasn’t, Akashi made them realign it anyways.)

“Yes, the blankets were an excellent choice,” Akashi agreed. He thought back to the way Furihata had deliberated on the colour of the weighted blanket; although he had settled on the red plaid, he’d been stuck on a cream-coloured one for some time. As Akashi observed him going back and forth between the two, mumbling to himself the benefits of each, it was clear to him how much care Furihata put into his decisions, even for the most minor of concerns.

Actually, after the events of his day off, Akashi found himself thinking back to that day on more than one occasion. Sometimes, when he was boggled down with work or sitting in a meeting with associates, he’d be triggered with a memory of their outing – Furihata getting excited about laundry detergent going on sale, the way he almost teared up at the first bite of his pineapple confit dessert, or the candor in his voice when he said he enjoyed spending time with Akashi. And each time it happened a curious stir would rise within his chest.

“I don’t know why, but I always get so excited around this time of the year,” Furihata remarked, bringing Akashi out of his recollection. “There’s just something about Christmas, you know?”

Akashi leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers together, “It seems you’re quite fond of the holiday.”

“Yeah, I’m a sucker for all that festive stuff. Maybe it’s because my family always made such a big deal of it,” There was still a hint of a smile as he turned to face Akashi, “Does your family, um, celebrate Christmas, too?”

“Not particularly, no,” he answered, honestly. He thought of the last Christmas, when his father had sent him a gift in the mail, with a card attached to it that would’ve been entirely blank if not for the scribble of a signature. He’d gifted him an expensive, limited edition watch that Akashi was certain cost more than some of his luxury vehicles. As far back as he could remember, this had been their routine when the festive holiday came around. His father had always been too busy to spend Christmas with him, and when Akashi inherited the president position, his schedule had fallen into a similar pattern.

His mother had been different, however. “From what I can recall, my mother enjoyed the festivities,” he found himself sharing against his better judgment. But Furihata was giving him a long look, like he was telling Akashi he was listening, not just hearing him, and it made him want to vocalize the memory, “I’d always hear her humming Christmas carols around this time of year, and I remember she’d spent an entire afternoon decorating the tree once. She’d prepare stockings for all the house staff, too, and filled them with all sorts of treats.”

“She sounds wonderful,” Furihata mused, and the marvel in his gaze told Akashi he wasn’t just saying that.

Akashi was suddenly aware of how much he was speaking, and about his mother, too, a topic that had ordinarily remained off limits. He lowered his eyes to his laptop and forced his next sentence to sound blasé, “On the other hand, my father and I don’t have any specific traditions.” 

Perhaps sensing Akashi’s discomfort, Furihata was the one to change the subject this time. He was rubbing the back of his neck when he spoke, “By the way, Momoi-san said I should prepare myself for the Christmas Eve party – lots of crazy stories from the past, I hear?”

Akashi nodded, “I’ve heard similar sentiments as well.” He could call a few anecdotes to mind involving alcohol and a certain blue haired manager from the Finance department. It was probably a widely known fact at Akashi Enterprises by now, to expect some sort of madness at the annual Christmas party as long as Aomine Daiki was present.

Furihata blinked at him, “You’ve never been?”

“Unfortunately, I haven’t. Year-end can get rather busy, so I’ve never had the time for it.” That wasn’t entirely true. Yes, Akashi was usually buried in work, but he also never had much interest in attending work functions that were more of the social variety than the business type.

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Furihata was looking at him now with an expression Akashi couldn’t quite read. He seemed almost… disappointed? “I hope you can make it this year, Akashi-san.”

“Ah, Furihata-kun, there you are!” Momoi had barged into the office then. There was a bubbly skip to her step as she made her way over. A bright red Santa hat sat neatly on her pink hair, and as she tip-toed to the assistant, she placed a similar one upon his own head, “I make everyone on our floor wear one – ah, except Akashi-kun, of course.”

Furihata was adjusting the Santa hat on himself, an embarrassed laugh coming out in soft chuckles. As Akashi watched him, he couldn’t help noticing that the radiant red against Furihata’s light brown locks was so fitting, dashing even.

* * *

“Ehhh? Akashicchi is going to attend the Christmas Eve party?” a dapper young man with satiny blonde hair was sitting with Akashi and Momoi in the company’s courtyard. The enclosure was a rather quaint space in the otherwise modern vicinity, centering around a lustrous zen garden. Akashi would sometimes meet up with longtime colleagues here, whenever he had time for a break. Kise Ryouta was one of them, a manager from the Marketing department who he’d known for years.

“That’s correct,” Akashi said, taking a sip from the americano in his hand.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you at a work party before,” The blonde pointed out. “Is everything okay? Blink twice if someone is putting you up to it.”

Akashi merely shrugged, “I have a bit of free time this year.”

“Still doesn’t sound like the Akashicchi that I know…” Kise pressed his lips together, not quite convinced. “Ah! Or maybe there’s someone you’re hoping to see there!”

“I can assure you that’s not the case,” The red head refuted. He crossed his arms under his coat, which had been draped over his shoulders making something of a cape. “I simply decided it was about time that I make an appearance. Surely, the president should show his face at some events every now and then.”

“I guess that makes sense…” Kise acknowledged. From his seat on one of the concrete benches, he casted a smirk towards Momoi’s direction, “Are you going to try and keep Aominecchi on a short leash this year?”

“Ugh, Dai-chan could drink himself into a coma for all I care,” there was a distinct weariness on the receptionist’s face. The expression was becoming a familiar sight, whenever her childhood friend Aomine was brought into question.

“Seems like only yesterday Aominecchi was climbing the statue in the concourse,” Kise was grinning to himself as he recalled the memory. “By the way, we can bring dates, right?” he proposed, after a beat.

“ _Other_ people can bring dates,” Momoi corrected. “Single folks like us will be going stag, as usual.”

Kise winced, affronted. “Could you play along just once? It’s the holidays.”

Momoi giggled as her hands tightened around her coffee cup, “I kind of get it though, there’s something about Christmas that makes you wish you were spending it with another person.” She delayed before adding, “Nami-chan from Accounting asked me if Furihata-kun was attending. I think she’s hoping to get close to him at the party.”

Akashi had been mostly apathetic while listening to the conversation but at Momoi’s last remark he was suddenly more invested than he’d like to be.

“You mean Akashicchi’s personal assistant?” Kise asked. He tilted his head, “I still don’t get it. I mean, he doesn’t really strike me as the popular type. He just seems like a regular guy to me.”

“Hmm, but that’s kind of his charm,” said Momoi as she gave Akashi a sidelong glance. “Wouldn’t you say so, Akashi-kun?”

Akashi thought that that statement was just scratching the surface. Sure, Furihata was by all means a regular guy. He usually packed a bento for lunch and something as simple as getting a seat on the train was often enough to put him in a good mood for rest of the day. It was the kind of normal that made you feel at ease being around him, and for someone like Akashi who existed in the fast-paced corporate world, it was certainly refreshing. However, Furihata was also capable of surprising him sometimes, and Akashi knew there was nothing ordinary about that.

But he kept this to himself as he nodded in agreement with Momoi.

* * *

Akashi and Furihata were returning from a meeting on the other side of town, the last of many courtesy calls with the company’s biggest investors before the end of the year. As Akashi merged his BMW into the highway, Furihata sat in the passenger seat, going through the president’s emails. He’d been driving with more frequency since his day off, falling back into the habit. It helped that he was still able to feel productive, with his assistant attending to work matters next to him.

Furihata was typing up a reply while Akashi dictated it to him. The sounds of the laptop keys were almost rhythmic under his speedy fingers. “… Sincerely, Akashi Seijuurou,” he echoed, reviewing the text on the screen. “So you decided to invest in that Ginza restaurant after all.”

“Yes, after discussing it with Mayuzumi-san it seemed like a good call,” Akashi stated. He didn’t tell Furihata that he’d already decided to green light the investment the evening of their first dinner there.

“That place was amazing. Sometimes I think I dreamt up that lobster entrée,” Furihata said wistfully, as he clicked away at the laptop. After a momentary lull, a sudden amusement emerged on his face, and he appeared to be grinning at the screen before him.

“What is it?” Akashi inquired.

“Ah, no, it’s nothing,” Furihata looked as if he was holding in his laughter now. With a cough into his fist, he composed himself before saying, “But you’ll probably be pleased to hear that your copy of _That Spring My Imouto and I Were Under the Cherry Blossoms_ has been shipped.”

“… That was a recommendation from Mayuzumi-san,” Akashi tried to explain, feeling an uncomfortable heat on his face. He quickly added, “I like to keep an open mind towards literature. I thought there’d be no harm in giving it a try.”

“Your order was for volume 5 though, so you must’ve read the first four books, right?” Furihata observed. Akashi didn’t think he’d ever heard that hint of mischief in his tone before. “And enjoyed them, apparently.”

For the first time, Akashi found himself cursing Furihata’s attention to detail. His ears were burning up again in that peculiar way and he cleared his throat, eager to steer the conversation somewhere else, “Just so you know, I’ve decided to attend the Christmas Eve party after all.”

“Really?” The brunette was beaming. “Is it okay though?”

“Yes, I was able to make headway in some of next year’s projects,” Akashi continued, appeased to be dropping the topic of his recent light novel choices. “Although, if I’m being honest, I’m not sure what to expect from the event.”

“Hmm, if everything Momoi-san told me was true, there’ll probably be a lot of alcohol,” Furihata divulged, sounding wary. “But you’re probably used to that, right? Drinking with colleagues is like, Business 101, after all.”

“I don’t believe I’ve ever drank with my employees before,” The red head admitted. To be honest, Akashi never saw the appeal in drinking for pleasure. He could sit back at home and enjoy a glass of wine, but drinking with others, and without any inhibition, was a practice he wished to avoid. “I’ve attended some formal dinners with investors and other associates, but I suppose this wouldn’t be the same.”

There was a pause before Furihata said, dumbfounded, “So you’ve never, like, drank for fun before? Like, at a bar with friends?”

“I can’t say that I have.”

“What about that time with Yamaoka-san?”

“There was a change in location at the last minute,” Akashi responded. He checked his blind spot before switching to the next lane, “Yamaoka-san’s plans for that night weren’t exactly in line with my own.”

“Oh,” there was something in the way Furihata had uttered the syllable that caught Akashi’s attention – was that relief he detected? He glanced at his assistant through the corner of his eye, and Furihata was looking down at his laptop, but the expression on his face was distracted. In a second he seemed to snap out of his thoughts, “You have so much to learn then, Akashi-san!”

“In regards to?”

“Well, drinking,” Furihata replied, huffing a laugh. “Social drinking is totally different from that formal stuff.”

It was Akashi’s turn to grin now, “Then perhaps you can enlighten me.”

At the prompt, the assistant crossed his arms and furrowed his brows, “Okay, you definitely don’t want to be the first one who gets drunk, so pacing is important…” When he spoke there was a certain aura of sophistication, and it was almost ironic given the subject at hand. He sounded surprisingly confident, sagely almost, as he went over the dos and don’ts of drinking. It made Akashi’s smile widen just listening to him.

* * *

“Akashi-kun, are you heading down now?” Momoi was peeking into Akashi’s office, her Santa hat forgone in favour of a more elegant outfit. She was wearing a short, classy red dress, befitting of the night ahead.

Akashi pried his attention from his laptop to his watch. It was already seven in the evening, and staff were beginning to trickle downstairs for the Christmas Eve party. Although other companies normally rented a venue for such functions, Akashi Enterprises had a tradition of hosting most events on-site, as their state-of-the-art facilities gave them plenty of space for entertaining. This year they were making use of the massive hall on the second floor.

“I’ll just be a moment,” Akashi responded. Once Momoi disappeared from his door, he shut his laptop and pulled open the last drawer on the right side of desk. The white gift box holding the leather briefcase was sitting inside.

Unlike other businesses in Japan, the company would be closed on Christmas day, a gesture of gratitude to the staff that his father had started some years ago and continued on with Akashi’s takeover.

He knew that if he was going to give Furihata the gift in time for Christmas, he would have to do it tonight.

“Ah, by the way! I’ve already set up the voicemail for tomorrow so you… don’t…” Momoi was standing before him again, her voice trailing off as she peered over Akashi’s desk. He’d been too preoccupied with his thoughts, he hadn’t even heard her enter the office.

Akashi shut the drawer before she could get a good look. He rose to his feet and began clearing his desk, nodding to the receptionist, “Thank you, Momoi.”

As he threw on his suit jacket, Akashi glimpsed the drawer one last time. He didn’t know why he was still mulling over it. It was a simple task, really. People gave gifts to one another all the time during Christmas – to their family, friends, loved ones, and yes, in some cases, to their personal assistants.

But was that all Furihata was to him? Surely, they were friends, too – Akashi’s day off had proved they enjoyed one another’s company. Even so, calling him a friend didn’t seem accurate either, as the thought of presenting that white box to him was enough to make Akashi’s chest tighten in that unfamiliar way.

For now, he’d push the thought to the back of his mind. The first order of the night was getting through the Christmas party unscathed.

* * *

“Aomine, you little shit! You locked me in the washroom, didn’t you?!”

Akashi could only watch as a fiery red head with a brawny built was shouting across the table. He was, for some reason, holding a broom in his right hand. Aomine, the Finance department’s manager and target of the verbal onslaught, simply sat back in his chair and took a swig of his beer. It was hard to believe the man who was yelling so loudly, his voice easily conquering the booming music in the background, was the manager of the Operations department himself, Kagami Taiga.

“Huh? Did I?” Aomine said, voice low and dull. As always, he had a dreary, disinterested look on his face.

“You asshole, I know it was you! I saw you come in after me!” Kagami clenched a fist, waving the broom with his other hand. “I had to wait for someone to come and remove this so I could get out!”

“Please lower your voice, Kagami-kun,” a smaller man with light-blue hair reprimanded him, taking the broom away. It was Kuroko Tetsuya, the assistant manager of the Operations team. His deadpan expression had become something of a signature for him. “You’re being unsightly.”

“Kuroko, I was stuck in there for half an hour! I missed the main course while I was in there! THE MAIN COURSE.”

Aomine’s lips had curled into a sneer now, “Oh, you’re right, I did do that.”

“KUROKO, GIVE ME THE BROOM.”

Kise was checking his phone under the table, “Only two hours in and they’re already at it,” he snickered to Momoi on his left. “And Aominecchi hasn’t even abused the open bar yet.”

“Come on now, can’t you two behave for just one night?" Momoi scolded the men from her seat, her face scrunched with annoyance. “And Dai-chan, stop pulling pranks on Kagami-kun! Aren’t you a little too old for this?”

“Ha? Who are you calling old? We’re the same age, Satsuki.”

Akashi inhaled sharply, remembering that this was the reason why he didn’t attend work parties. Apparently, it didn’t seem to faze anyone at this particular table that their boss was sitting amongst them. Then again, that was what Akashi should’ve expected from the ragtag group he (regrettably) considered his close friends.

(Though it was still a wonder to Akashi how Aomine and Kagami were able to function in a professional capacity, let alone in their managerial roles. Maybe he was the one at fault, for letting those two rise through the ranks in the first place.)

Letting out a long, exhausted sigh, Akashi looked to his right to find Furihata’s familiar figure. The assistant had been seated a couple tables away with some administrative staff (Akashi recognized them as Moriyama and Hayama from their floor), as well as the girls from Accounting who’d previously swarmed Furihata in a corridor some time ago.

His face was rather flushed, turning pink under the festive, pearly lights. Hayama offered him a drink, which Furihata accepted after much reluctance. Was that his fifth one now? _So much for pacing yourself_ , Akashi thought. The girls were then exchanging some words with him that Akashi couldn’t hear, which were immediately followed by a loud fit of giggles. The one that sat closest to Furihata leaned towards him, hanging off his shoulder. All the while, Furihata’s face continued to glow like a little Christmas light of its own.

The entire display made Akashi’s stomach turn. Not to mention his own boisterous table, where Kagami had finally taken a seat, but he was now fighting over a plate of dessert with Aomine. He didn’t know why exactly, but Akashi felt unsettled, and he wondered why he had shown up in the first place.

When the plates had been cleared and the lights went down, employees began to shuffle around the hall, breaking into groups to mingle with one another. Music blared on as a relaxation fell over the hall, mostly due to the increase in foot traffic at the open bar. Their own table had lost Aomine long ago to the promises of endless whiskey refills and sake shots, and Kise had sneakily tagged along to ensure Aomine’s glass never stayed empty for too long.

Akashi had downed the last of his red wine when he heard a voice approaching him, almost drowned out by the music and chatter. “Akashi-san,” he rotated in his chair to find Furihata behind him, glowing face and all. “They should be ready for you soon.”

Since it was Akashi’s first time attending the Christmas Eve party, it only seemed appropriate for him to distinguish his appearance with a short speech. It was Akashi’s idea and although he knew it’d all be very humdrum and unexciting, it was just another expectation he’d have to uphold as the leader of the corporation. _Firm, but benevolent_ , he remembered his father saying.

Akashi forced a smile at his assistant, “It appears you’re having quite the evening,” he gestured his head towards Furihata’s table. “You’ve even got some admirers.”

“Ah, those are just some friends! It’s not like that at all!” Furihata was waving his hands to dismiss the comment and the ice in his glass clinked around. Just how many drinks had he had by now? Akashi wanted to ask but he wasn’t sure if it was his place.

He set the thought aside – as he had several times throughout the night. Akashi methodically stood up from his seat and buttoned his jacket before heading over to the platform at the front of the hall, Furihata in tow. When he reached the podium the music from the speakers was subdued until it was silenced completely. A spotlight shone over him and every head in the room veered in his direction. Hushed whispers could be heard amongst the crowd – excited buzz at the president’s rare appearance.

“Good evening,” Akashi began, leaning towards the mic. “I hope everyone is having a pleasant time and enjoying their Christmas Eve. I’m delighted to be here with such gracious company, although it’s hard to believe the end of the year is already upon us. We at Akashi Enterprises were fortunate enough to enjoy another prosperous year, and I know that it’s in no small part due to the people in this very room. We saw remarkable growth across all departments this year and I’d like to express my gratitude to all of you for helping to accomplish that.

“I’m well aware that my succession of Akashi Enterprises a couple years ago was a surprise for many of you. I, too, wondered if I could live up to the legacy my father had built here. But I’m truly appreciative to those of you who put your trust in me, and I can only begin to repay you by continuing to lead our company towards success. And I hope that you will also lend me your support in the new year as Akashi Enterprises reaches newer, and exciting heights.

“Now please, enjoy the rest of your night. Happy Holidays to you and your loved ones from the Akashi family,” as Akashi bowed at the end of his speech, an applause echoed through the hall and the music came to life once more. He walked off the platform, where a smiling Furihata was waiting at the edge.

“That was great, Akashi-san,” he gushed, a captivated glint in his eye.

As soon as he noticed the smile, he felt an immediate swelling in his chest, and it was only when he averted his gaze that the ache finally went away.

Akashi then did his rounds across the hall, stopping at each table to greet and partake in courteous chat with the employees. Furihata stayed with him the entire time. As they had planned, the assistant remained a step behind Akashi, leaning over and informing him of the names and positions of some of the more notable staff members. Akashi already knew most of the faces but Furihata had done such a good job at memorizing who everyone was, he let him continue whispering into his ear anyways.

Plus, it was the first time that night that the uneasiness in his stomach had subsided; he felt comfortable, like this was how things were supposed to be.

“I hope I’m not keeping you from your friends,” Akashi said over his shoulder.

“No, not at all!” Furihata insisted, sheepishly, “I, um… I’d rather be doing this to be honest…”

Suddenly Akashi was hoping the greetings didn’t have to come to an end; that Furihata would carry on with his assistant duties and prolong the only normal moment he’d felt all night. And a part of him knew it was also because he’d rather Furihata stay with him, away from the co-workers who pushed drinks into his hands, and the girls who were getting a little too close.

Maybe it was selfish of him.

But Akashi also knew that the reason he was there, at a party he never wanted to attend in the first place, was because of Furihata.

After he wrapped up the conversation at the last table, Moriyama had come faithfully looking for Furihata. His face was a deep red, and judging by the sluggish way he greeted Akashi, it was obvious he’d had a few too many drinks. Furihata sounded embarrassed as he ushered the man towards their table, turning to Akashi to excuse himself.

“Oh, and Merry Christmas, Akashi-san,” he had said before taking off.

Akashi didn’t say it back, the words hardly taking shape and making it passed his throat before he’d resigned to watching Furihata disappear into the crowd.

He set out towards his own table, where Aomine and Kise had finally returned from the bar, cheeky grins on their faces visible even under the dimmed lights.

Aomine set a large, unopened bottle of rum at the center of the table. “Alright, we’re going to breathe some life into this party.”

Kagami made a noise in response. He was grimacing at the drink, “I can’t believe they actually let _you_ have that.”

“Of course they did, I told them the _president_ is with me,” as if he had conjured them out of nowhere, Aomine then placed several shot glasses in a line and immediately began filling them. “Now are you going to drink or was that mouth only made for whining?”

“Aomine-kun, please don’t provoke Kagami-kun,” Kuroko said blandly, his arms crossed. “He gets riled up easily, you know how simple-minded he is.”

“WHAT WAS THAT?”

“First thing’s first,” Aomine extended a shot glass to Akashi. The brown liquid sloshed around, pooling over the glass and dripping onto Aomine’s large hand. “Cheers, prez. That was some speech – real heart-warming stuff.”

As he took the glass, a sigh slipped through his lips, and Akashi thought that any semblance of peace he’d hoped to have that night had already been foiled. Bittersweet liquid flooded his mouth as he downed the shot, and his chest felt warm as it settled into his system.

_Merry Christmas, Akashi-san._

This wasn’t exactly the Christmas he had in mind.

Akashi perched the empty shot glass on the table and hauled himself to his feet. Momoi had shot him a look, “Need a breather?”

“I’ll just be upstairs for a bit,” he replied. Just as he had turned on his heel towards the exit, he felt Momoi suddenly dart to his side. She was tipping her head up to look at him with those large, unrelenting, rose-coloured eyes.

“Akashi-kun, it might not be any of my business, but,” Momoi was smiling now, that knowing grin of hers he’d seen several times before. “That big white box in your desk? If it’s going to get into the right hands before the end of the night you might want to hurry.”

Akashi was gaping at her, head filled with an ambush of questions he wanted to ask but couldn’t form the sentences in time before she’d scooted away.

* * *

When Akashi arrived upstairs, the lights on the floor had already been turned off. He suspected maintenance had done this to conserve energy since the building would be closed the next day. Navigating his way to his office using the flashlight in his phone, Akashi found his way to his desk and powered on his laptop. Luckily, with the radiant city lights coming through the vast windows behind him, it wasn’t too dark for him to get some work done. It actually wasn’t that much different from when he pulled all-nighters at home.

Akashi was realizing now that the only silver lining about the Christmas party was that it was hosted on company premises – which meant that the option to retreat back to work had always been there.

He’d gone over the annual report, as well as the projected operating budget for the next quarter, when a thought occurred to him: Furihata’s Christmas gift. It had lingered in the back of his mind for most of the night, but he’d been so absorbed in his other frustrations, he’d almost forgotten until Momoi had mentioned it earlier.

He glanced at his watch; around an hour had passed since he left the hall and it was now almost 11 p.m. Usually these functions lasted well beyond midnight, so he hadn’t run out of time yet. But how was he supposed to give him the gift anyways? It wasn’t exactly something Akashi wanted to do with an audience, and finding a way to be alone with Furihata had already proven itself a near impossible task, with all the frenzy downstairs.

But Momoi was right, Akashi had to act quickly if he wanted to give him the briefcase tonight (how she’d been so perceptive was alarming though – could this be a side effect from being around Furihata so much?)

Akashi pulled out his phone and selected his recent contacts. He found Furihata’s name in no time and tapped on it, breath hitched in his throat as he held the phone to his ear.

From just beyond the walls of his office, he heard a faint ringing followed by a loud thud. There was the sound of a pained groan right after and some muttering that wasn’t audible.

Akashi stood up from his desk and moved to the source. He’d recognized that ringtone.

“Furiha – ”

“WAHHHHHHH!”

The sight of a frazzled Furihata bumping his head (a second time, Akashi assumed) under Momoi’s desk came into view, although slightly obscured by the dark. The assistant was barely illuminated by his own phone, but Akashi could see the panic in the wide eyes that gawked back at him.

“Akashi-san! Y-you scared me!” a hand flew to his chest and he let out a deep breath.

“I apologize. I didn’t mean to startle you, Furihata-kun,” Akashi was biting his bottom lip, all his efforts going into stifling a laugh. Even with just the meager cellphone light, he could see the colour had been drained from Furihata’s skittish face. “May I ask what you’re doing up here?”

“Ah, Momoi-san said she couldn’t walk in her heels anymore, so she sent me up here to grab her spare shoes. I can’t seem to find them though,” The brunette climbed out from under the desk, dusting off his shirt. He wasn’t wearing his suit jacket anymore and his sleeves had been rolled up. “I didn’t know the lights would be out… It’s kind of creepy seeing the office like this.”

“Yes, it appears the maintenance staff has already prepared for the closure tomorrow.”

“That makes sense,” Furihata said, eyes studying his surroundings before finally landing on Akashi. “By the way, I didn’t see you downstairs, I was wondering where you went.” He paused as his stare passed the red head, to his office behind him, “Are you… working?”

“I thought I’d take a break from the events downstairs,” Akashi admitted. There was no point trying to cover it up now, especially from Furihata who’d probably already noticed the laptop, glowing on his desk in the otherwise darkened room.

“Ah, I know what you mean,” the brunette concurred. “I’m beginning to see what Momoi-san meant now. I feel like everyone just showed up to get wasted. It’s kind of overwhelming down there.”

“Really?” Akashi leaned against his door and crossed his arms. “I thought you were enjoying yourself.”

“No way, Moriyama-san and Hayama-san haven’t let me off the hook once,” he frowned. “They’re determined to get me as drunk as they are.”

Akashi raised a brow, “Correct me if I’m mistaken, but weren’t you the one with all the expertise on social drinking?”

“Ha… I guess I should really learn to take my own advice, huh?”

“It seems to me that whatever expertise you were boasting about before was long forgotten once your friends started pushing drinks on you,” his tone had come out harsher than he’d meant it to. As soon as he’d let the remark slip, Akashi immediately wished he had held his tongue.

Furihata was still as he stared at him. Through the shadows Akashi could make out his confounded expression, “Akashi-san, are you… upset with me?”

“No, of course not,” he ran a hand through his hair, frustrated with himself for being frustrated in the first place. It was that egging concern for Furihata that had plagued him for most of the night. And he knew it didn’t make any sense – they were both adults, and it wasn’t like he was responsible for him just because he was his boss. But Akashi didn’t know how to be rational when it came to the man in front of him anymore.

“My apologies,” he said, his voice softer this time. “It’s been a long night. Social gatherings are not exactly my strong suit and I have a suspicion Aomine is going to land himself in the hospital at some point,” Akashi stopped to sigh, “I suppose I’m just tired.”

“D-Do you want me to get you anything? A coffee maybe?” Furihata hastily suggested.

“I’m fine, please don’t trouble yourself,” Akashi waved a dismissive hand.

“It’s no trouble at all!” Furihata had spun around and was already in a sprinting motion towards the other direction, “Let me run to the conbini and grab you an energy drink!”

Akashi moved to stop him, “Wait, Furihata-kun – ”

Before he could make sense of the urgency in his stomach that really didn’t want to see Furihata go, there was another resounding thud, the sound of Furihata’s foot connecting with Momoi’s desk. Akashi’s hand automatically surged forward, and he made a grab for the brunette just as he saw his shrouded figure plummet forward. Owing it to his reflexes once again, Akashi felt his fingers fold around Furihata’s arm and he instinctively turned him around, pulling him towards his chest, just as he had done the first time.

Akashi’s eyes were beginning to adjust to the darkness and it wasn’t long before Furihata’s face came into focus, barely inches from his own; he could see, with staggering clarity, the wispy brown hair that fell over his forehead, those honeyed orbs that still managed to shine in the shadows, and the parted lips that seemed to shake with every breath.

There was a warmth that was radiating from Furihata as well, and it was then that Akashi noticed his face burning brighter than it had all night. He felt warm under Akashi’s grip, but he wasn’t shaking, or nervous like the last time. Realizing this, Akashi moved his free hand to hold Furihata’s other arm as well, just above the crook of his elbow. He wasn’t falling any longer, in fact, he was steady on his feet, but Akashi didn’t let go – he didn’t want to let go.

Furihata was so close to him, he wondered if he could also hear his thrumming heartbeat, which was so vivid and loud in his own head that he was sure it hadn’t gone unnoticed. Akashi was staring down at the brown eyes that seemed just as fixated on him, and he felt the ache in his chest that never seemed to disappear since that snowy night when he dropped Furihata off in front of his apartment.

Was this what it meant to have a crush on someone?

No, Akashi was sure it was more than just that.

But he’d also never felt something like this before.

His head had been swimming with thoughts of Furihata all night – he’d been so worried about him the entire time, concerned over how much he was drinking. It had bothered him, too, that Furihata spent all his time with Moriyama and Hayama, with those girls who wouldn’t leave him alone, and that he wasn’t where Akashi wanted him to be – by his side.

Because Akashi knew, everything was infinitely better when Furihata was with him. Everything felt right, just like in this moment, in the pitch black of their office, where it was just the two of them and nothing but the faint sounds of Tokyo traffic outside, and Akashi’s own heartbeat, deafening in his ears.

“Akashi-san…?” Furihata was first to break the silence, but he didn’t budge either.

As Akashi eyes traveled over Furihata’s face, taking in the features that had become so warm and comforting to him, he felt a surge of emotion gather in his throat, and he was certain of it.

Akashi Seijuurou was experiencing the first crush of his life. At twenty-eight-years-old. And on his personal assistant.

He had feelings for Furihata.

And now he was thinking of the white gift box again, and how the opportunity had fallen so perfectly into his lap. He and Furihata were alone right now, away from everyone else downstairs, and he hadn’t run out of time yet.

He could still salvage the night.

“Furihata-kun,” he finally said, voice coming out raspy. He was still holding the brunette closely to himself, his grip never faltering. “Would you mind – ”

“Furi… hata-kun? Is… that you?”

At the sound of the unfamiliar voice, Akashi let go of his assistant and took a hasty step back. Their heads turned towards the elevators not far off, and Akashi was able to recognize the woman who had stumbled out of the lift as one of the Accounting girls from Furihata’s table.

“I saw… you take off… all… a sudden,” she slurred, hardly forming a coherent sentence as she struggled to stay on her feet.

“N-Nami-san?” Furihata called out.

There was a faded sound of scuffled steps before she collapsed to the floor.

Furihata rounded back to Akashi, worry evident in his creased brows, “I think she’s drunk.”

He rushed over to help the woman stand, slinging one of her arms over his shoulders as he pulled her up, clumsy feet barely leveled on the floor, “She looks pretty bad. I think I should take her downstairs and see that she gets some water.”

“Furi…” Nami was mumbling between giggles, “I was… lookin’ for you…”

“Yes, please take her back down,” Akashi instructed, and he could feel his jaw clench after he spoke.

Furihata pressed on the elevator button, eyes flitting over to Akashi. His face was both hesitant and panicked. He looked as if he had something to say, but what came out instead was a shaky promise, “I… I’ll come back! Please, just wait for me!”

Akashi felt that sinking feeling in his gut again. Just as he had done the whole night, he was trying to keep his frustrations from surfacing. With a sigh, he walked back into his office and snatched his coat off the hanger. When he finally made his way over to the elevators, Furihata and Nami had already disappeared.

* * *

The courtyard was dark at this time, barely illuminated by the spaced-out lights of the zen garden. Although the distant echo of music from the Christmas party could still be heard, they were mostly muffled in the air around Akashi. As he stood before the pond that enclosed the rock structures, a breeze crept in and howled within the walls that framed the grounds. Snow was falling gingerly into the open space, piling on the stripped branches of the trees around him.

If he remembered correctly, it had been his mother’s idea to have the zen garden established here. She used to say the building looked so daunting and cold with its massive glass windows and stony composition, and that a little touch of tradition could add some life to it. Akashi had to agree, as he often felt that the courtyard was a space of its own, removed from the bleakness of its corporate surroundings.

Maybe he should’ve waited upstairs, as Furihata had asked him to, but Akashi found himself here before he knew it.

He was still trying to wrap his head around what had happened with Furihata earlier. He didn’t know how long the moment had lasted – Akashi had abandoned all sense of time the moment he felt Furihata’s skin under his touch – but he knew that something palpable existed between them right then and there, and that he wasn’t the only one who felt it, either.

And he had been so close, too. So close to figuring all this out.

“Akashi-san?”

He forced his attention away from the pond. Under the snow-tipped trees, he could see Furihata inching towards him, his hands tucked under his sides as his nose turned a rosy shade. He was still only wearing his dress shirt.

“Please, go back inside,” Akashi demanded, wearily. “You’re not even wearing a coat.”

“I-it’s okay,” he stammered. “I went upstairs, but you weren’t there. I looked for you all over…”

Akashi shoved his hands into his pockets, “I assume you took care of your friend.”

“I did,” Furihata replied. Another gust of wind blew through the courtyard and he squeezed his shirt under pink fingertips. “She’s with the others… b-but, um, can we talk about what happened upstairs?”

“Just give me a moment, I’ll be in shortly.”

“Akashi-san, please – ”

“Furihata-kun, can you please just wait for me inside?” the red head snapped, alarmed by the severity in his own tone. It was the second time that night that he noted how rough it sounded while talking to the assistant, but it still didn’t let up, “You’re going to freeze out here.”

“I-I don’t mind…”

“Well, I wish you would,” Akashi scoffed. There it was again, that anxious flurry inside him that was making him clench his fists inside his coat. “I wish you _did_ mind sometimes.”

“What… what do you mean?” Furihata’s own voice was faltering.

“I mean,” he took a sharp breath but it did nothing to stop the torrent that followed, “if you didn’t have such an incessant need to please everyone, then maybe you’d actually say no to a drink, or learn to shake off some girl who’s been all over you the entire night.”

Furihata stopped in his tracks, just a couple steps before he could reach the pond. He was close enough that Akashi could see the way he had flinched at his words, and how his eyes did little to hide the hurt brewing beyond them. “So you are upset with me…”

Akashi gritted his teeth, irritated, but mostly at himself, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I don’t know what’s happening, but if you could just help me to understand,” Furihata’s choked out, staring frantically at the red head now, as if searching for an answer, “Akashi-san?”

There was a moment, as if time had reached a standstill and Akashi thought he deserved to suffer in the silence. He wondered what he could possibly say to explain everything he’d felt that night, from the throb in his chest when he held Furihata, to the frustration that loomed within him now. And he might’ve came up with the words, had he not been _here_ , at a Christmas Eve party, where alcohol-induced disasters were a matter that remained tried-and-true…

“AOMINE YOU BASTARD I AM GOING TO END YOU.”

Almost as if thunder had struck, a blaring crash pierced the air as two large men plunged into the pond of the zen garden. Akashi instinctively took a step back to avoid the splash, as his mind raced to process what had just happened. Aomine and Kagami were wrestling around in the shallow water in front of him, holding one another by the collars of their shirts as their violent grunts erupted like a storm. Amongst all the confusion, a single broom floated next to them.

“Dai-chan!” Akashi could hear Momoi, outrage boiling into a hysterical shout, as she scrambled into the courtyard. “Get out of there!”

Kise was just a couple steps behind her, holding his stomach as he doubled over with laughter. An exhausted looking Kuroko merely stood at his side, shaking his head.

It didn’t take long for a crowd to form in the garden, staff from the party swarming in to catch a glimpse of the commotion. In the midst of the chaos, Akashi took the chance to slip out of the courtyard and exit the building, willing himself not to think about Furihata, the way those brown eyes had broken so completely, or the unopened gift box sitting upstairs in his desk.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said this would be lighthearted, but please bear with this tiny sliver of angst for now! I’m so sorry!! (/w\\) And I know there were some frustrating bits, but I promise they’ll be worth it. Ahhh, I don’t know why I feel bad ;__;
> 
> The light novel that Akashi was reading by the way is entirely made up. I just wanted to think of something as cringey as possible, haha.
> 
> The next chapter will be the last one, but I’ve got some more ideas for this AU so I’m considering writing extra/bonus chapters, like Furihata’s PoV. Please let me know if you’d be interested in reading them!


	5. Today, Tomorrow, and Every Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, so this is the last chapter. When I first had this idea in my head it was going to be a one-shot, but it kept growing and I had so much fun writing this fic, I somehow managed to finish it in under a month, which is crazy. Writing AkaFuri again has been so nostalgic and reminded me why I love this ship so much in the first place. I don’t think I’ll ever move on from them or KnB to be honest. T_T
> 
> Also, I’ve created a series for this fic titled, _At All Hours_ (subject to change). As mentioned before, I’m thinking of writing one-shots/asides for this AU just because I’m self-indulgent and have no control, and I apparently hate sleep.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who’s read this little fic of mine, and to those who left kudos and comments. I hope it was something you enjoyed.

“Here’s your coffee, Akashi-san… uh… cappuccino, right?”

Akashi tipped his head up, craning his neck more than he’d like to, as he frowned at the tremendous figure before him. Feathery purple bangs fell over the almost lifeless eyes that stared back at him. Everything from the man’s lazy demeanor to the way his voice dragged every word made it seem like he didn’t want to be there. And well, Akashi didn’t exactly want him there either.

Elbow propped on his desk, Akashi’s forehead fell to his open palm, “No, Murasakibara-kun. What I asked for was an _americano_.”

“Oh… sorry, Akashi-san… I’ll get it right next time…”

Akashi really, really hoped there wouldn’t be a next time.

But Furihata was still away from the office, down with a fever according to Momoi, and it had already been three days since the Christmas Eve party, and two since Murasakibara from Marketing came to temporarily fill-in for him.

To Akashi, that was two miserable days at work without the peace of mind that came with Furihata’s reliable aid, and three miserable days of him dwelling in the aftermath of what happened between them at the Christmas party. Christmas Day had been hard enough with the office closed, and without the refuge of work for him to escape to, Akashi spent most of the holiday doing menial tasks while trying to ignore his phone. He considered texting Furihata, but every time he thought about what to say, his mind drew jarringly blank. It was like the part of his brain that could effortlessly negotiate his way around any business deal was coming up empty now, short-circuited by the impossible task of erasing everything he’d said in the zen garden.

And, Akashi thought, he didn’t want to put a damper on Furihata’s Christmas. He’d already done enough.

But returning to the office had been just as bad, coming in to discover the news that Furihata was sick and would be out for a few days. Akashi was worried it might be awkward to see Furihata before he’d remedied their situation, but not seeing him at all was much, much worse.

Murasakibara sauntered back to Furihata’s desk, where he immediately produced a snack from his pockets and began chomping down on the treat. From where Akashi sat he could see the mess of snack wrappers amassing on Furihata’s workspace and it made him press his lips into a straight line.

Akashi was never one to defer much belief in fate or chance, but he was certain that as far as personal assistants go, he had the luck of the draw.

For one thing, Furihata never got his coffee order wrong. And he was always on the mark when he arranged dinners at Akashi’s favourite restaurants, or ordered lunches to the office, often anticipating his needs before Akashi knew what they were himself. He could probably attribute that to Furihata’s never-failing ability to pick up on even the most obscure of details. Like how a month after Furihata joined the company, Akashi started to find the business, world news, and sports sections of the newspaper singled out in a neat pile on his desk, because the assistant knew those were the only pages Akashi bothered to read. Or the way the air seemed less stuffy at Akashi’s home because Furihata had mentioned that one time that he should get a few plants, and now the hints of green in the living room made Akashi think the place felt much cozier to be in.

And it was all these acts, right down to the traces of Furihata that cemented themselves into Akashi’s day-to-day, that made everything in his life a little brighter, and a lot less hollow. It moved Akashi’s heart in a way he’d never known to happen before.

Akashi tapped a pen against his desk, eyes affixed on a revenue report, but the numbers weren’t processing in his head. He’d only just clued into his feelings for Furihata a few nights ago, and it was all still very new, and confusing to him. He was aware now that the way his stomach did somersaults at certain times when he was with Furihata was because of those feelings. And when he thought back to how he’d held him in this very office not long ago, the flush of blood throughout his body felt like a thick coat on the hottest day of summer.

He’d never felt this way about anyone before. Even when Furihata wasn’t in the office, he found his mind flooded in thoughts of him. When he looked out the glass walls to Murasakibara’s enormous presence, he’d be thinking about Furihata instead. How every time he pried his eyes away from his laptop to peer beyond the walls, Furihata’s back would be there, and sometimes, he’d even allowed his gaze to wander, and trace all the lines of his familiar figure…

Furihata was slim, but not lanky. He had a firm build, and Akashi wondered if he owed this to his days playing basketball in the past. He also had nice shoulders; they weren’t too broad but not too narrow either. Akashi thought his looks were above average, not anything extraordinary, but he did like the way his dainty nose seemed to complement his small mouth, and how it gave his features a harmonious appeal. And that was to say nothing of those chocolatey eyes, or his rosy cheeks whenever he stumbled on his words, making Akashi feel powerless against the throb in his chest. He supposed Furihata was on the short side, but then again Akashi wasn’t exactly towering over anyone either. At least Furihata was still shorter than him. Which was good, because Akashi would prefer to be taller than his…

_Wait._

Taller than his what?

Akashi’s hand went slack and the pen clattered onto his desk. _Where am I even going with this –_

“Akashi-san?” the drawl came in at the perfect time, snapping Akashi out of his inner turmoil. Murasakibara was leaning in through the door. “Uh… some guys are here to see you…”

“Some guys?” Aomine echoed, irritation in his tone as he strolled into Akashi’s office. “He knows we’re practically his bosses, right?”

“Actually, Kise is,” Kagami corrected, trailing behind the other man. He yawned, then added, “Idiot.”

“Hey, _idiot_ , wanna go swimming again?”

Akashi cleared his throat and it only took a moment before Aomine and Kagami were seated in front of his desk, an uncharacteristic silence stewing between them.

“I’m sure you know why I called you both in here,” Akashi started, eyes flickering from one manager to the other.

“… Might have to do with that koi pond,” Aomine grunted.

Kagami made a face, “It’s a zen garden.”

“Same thing.”

“ _No_ , a koi pond has fish. You know, those things that live in water? Where sushi comes from?”

“Aomine, Kagami, please,” Akashi interjected, sucking in a sharp breath. “I don’t think I need to remind you that your roles in this company require a certain degree of professionalism. I’ve already turned a blind eye to your… misconducts… in the past, due to our long withstanding personal relationships, but I’m afraid I can’t let this one go.”

Aomine was staring, deadpanned, before finally relenting. He muttered, “My bad,” then added, “Sorry.”

“Yeah, sorry about the _zen garden_ ,” Kagami said, putting a notable emphasis on the two words. Aomine’s brow twitched in response.

Akashi allowed them a few seconds to rue in their apologies before speaking again, “Fortunately the damages were minimal, however I will be taking the repair costs from your annual bonuses as a punishment.”

Aomine surged forward, slamming a fist on Akashi’s desk, “Are you kidding?!”

“It’s that or I fire you.”

“Yup, I think we’re all good here,” he clapped his hands together and hauled himself to his feet. “We good, Kagami?”

Kagami sighed in resignation, standing up, “Yeah, seems fair.”

“By the way, what happened to your assistant? The really nervous one?” Aomine nodded his head at Murasakibara outside, long legs propped on Furihata’s desk as he emptied a bag of chips into his mouth. “Kind of like a chihuahua?”

“He’s unwell, unfortunately,” Akashi replied, choosing not to comment on Aomine’s analogy.

“I hope it’s not because of us,” Kagami said with a frown. He scratched the back of his neck.

Akashi looked over at him, “Why do you say that?”

“Well, he and Kuroko had to get in the pond to break up our fight. I told him to dry off and go home right after, but he stuck around anyways. He was still here when I left that night. Looked like he was waiting for something.”

“Probably a girl,” Aomine chimed in, a snicker in his voice.

Once the two managers had stalked out of his office, Akashi let his head fall back to the cool leather of his chair. A weary breath slipped through his lips.

Had Furihata waited for him to come back that night?

When Akashi shut his eyes, he could only see Furihata standing in the zen garden. His shivering form in the wintery night had never looked smaller.

There was a pang in his chest again, and he was beginning to wonder if that feeling would ever really go away.

* * *

For the first time since Akashi had started at the company, he was leaving the office at five p.m. on the dot. There was no use staying to get any work done. Everything in his head was Furihata Kouki, leaving no gaps for any other branches of thought, let alone emails, or year-end reports.

Before he left, however, he gave a long look at the bottom right drawer of his desk. After some time he finally pulled it open and retrieved the gift box, holding it snug under his arm as he exited the room.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you leave before me,” Momoi blurted when he passed her workstation. “Is everything okay, Akashi-kun?”

Akashi’s steps came to a halt and he rounded back to look at her, studying her startled expression. Finally he gestured to the box in his arm, “How did you know the gift was for Furihata-kun?” he inquired. “That night, you intentionally sent him upstairs, didn’t you?”

The question made her face change and Momoi was pursing her lips, as if considering her answer. It only lasted an instant though, because that all-knowing grin had emerged again. “You know, you never used to smile at work much, until Furihata-kun started working here,” she stated. “Hm, and there’s this thing that happens, whenever the two of you are in the same room.”

“What is it?” said Akashi, arching a brow.

Momoi straightened a stack of papers against her desk, “You don’t look at anyone else.”

Akashi didn’t know how to reply. This wasn’t the first time he found himself at a loss for words because of Momoi. It seemed she had a knack for that.

“Ah, and you’re totally welcome, you know,” she was batting her eyelashes at him now, still beaming, “Because I’m the one who hired Furihata-kun? If you two end up getting married I should probably get a raise, don’t you think?”

It was hearing “Furihata” and “married” in the same breath that had Akashi struggling to form any thought coherent enough to actually vocalize. Once again, he was speechless. But he also told himself that if it all worked out with Furihata, he’d owe Momoi more than just a raise. Perhaps a promotion was in order. Hell, she could even have Aomine’s job.

* * *

Maybe he’d been stirred by Momoi’s comments, or maybe he’d already decided his course of action when he grabbed the jilted Christmas gift from his desk, but as soon as Akashi climbed into his car after work there was only one place in mind that he wanted to be.

And now, he was here. In front of Furihata’s apartment.

He confirmed the unit number Momoi had texted to him with the one on the door for what must’ve been the fifth, or sixth time. In one hand, he held the white gift box, wedged against his side. In the other, he was holding onto a couple of grocery bags, having stopped at the mart before making his way here. It was the same supermarket he’d visited with Furihata last time. Although it had only been less than a month, the day off that Akashi spent with Furihata seemed like such a long time ago in his mind. He supposed that’s what it felt like, to miss someone.

With the hand holding shopping bags, he reached forward and pressed his index finger against the doorbell. The hammering under his ribcage felt more intense than it had all day. In fact, the only time it had ever pounded this hard was when he was holding Furihata on Christmas Eve. Akashi could probably count on one hand all the times in his life he’d felt his nerves get the better of him, and half of those instances had been incited by Furihata himself. As he waited with bated breath for the door before him to budge, he knew by the knots in his stomach, that this was one of those moments.

“Coming,” he heard the small voice beyond the door before it finally opened, and a head of tousled brown hair appeared within the frame. Furihata was dressed in a grey hoodie and black sweatpants – Akashi had never seen him look so casual and he felt a flutter in his pit when he noticed the way the oversized sweater clung to his form.

“A-Akashi-san,” Furihata managed to utter, eyes wide once they’d landed on the red head at his doorstep. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard you weren’t feeling well,” he studied the assistant as he said this. The red hue that spread from his cheeks to his ears was the most obvious sign, but with another look, it was clear that his usual energy wasn’t there. Fatigued shoulders that were slightly hunched and small beads of sweat on his forehead made Akashi’s heart feel tight, but it was a different kind of ache. “I hope I’m not imposing, but I wanted to check up on you.”

Furihata didn’t immediately respond, his stunned expression telling Akashi that he wasn’t sure what to make of the situation. After a few seconds, he drew back, allowing space for Akashi to enter, “N-no, please, come in.”

“May I ask how you’re doing?” Akashi said as he stepped into the unit, sliding off his dress shoes.

Furihata hurried to place a pair of lightly worn slippers in front of him, “I’m a bit better! This is nothing compared to the past couple days. I think my fever’s actually gone down a bit…”

“I’m relieved to hear that,” he followed Furihata through the narrow entryway, eventually setting foot into the main room. Furihata’s apartment was like most two-bedroom units you’d find in Tokyo; a modest dwelling where the living room and kitchen made up one space, and the furniture was limited to a loveseat sofa, a low table, and a TV. It was small, and simple, but Akashi felt it was charming and that everything in the apartment was so very _Furihata_ – bright, and tidy (although room for storage was sparse, there wasn’t any clutter), with potted plants huddled together in almost every corner. The open shelves in the kitchen were neatly stocked with labeled containers for spices and various ingredients, and a metal rack by the sink was lined with mugs of every colour. It felt homey and welcoming, like a warm hug after wandering around in the cold all day.

“My brother is staying at my parents’ place until New Year’s, so it’s just me here. I didn’t want to bother them while I’m sick,” Furihata explained. He looked a bit embarrassed when he realized Akashi was scanning the room. “Sorry, it must feel pretty cramped for you.”

“Not at all,” Akashi reassured, “On the contrary, I find it rather comfortable here.”

“Really? I-I’m glad. I know it’s not much but make yourself at home…”

A silence fell over them and Akashi was suddenly painfully aware that the last time they had spoken was in the courtyard, when he’d unloaded his frustrations on a very confused Furihata. And it seemed as if the brunette was thinking the same, as the awkwardness that filled the space between them felt magnified with every wordless second that passed, until Furihata finally blurted, “L-let me take your bags for you!”

“There’s no need,” Akashi stopped him. He gestured to the grocery bags, “I’m by no means much of a chef, but I thought I would try my hand at dinner. It’s the least I can do for intruding on your evening so suddenly.”

“Y-you’re going to cook?” Furihata stammered. “Wait, more importantly, you went grocery shopping by yourself?”

“Yes, and I even managed to acquire a few sale items,” a smirk crossed his face as he said this. Akashi had never thought twice about the price of his groceries, but when he’d been at the mart earlier he was strangely mindful of all the sale stickers on the shelves. It became somewhat of an amusing game for him, picking out the deals he knew Furihata would approve of. “Thanks to your guidance the last time, I was able to find eggs at a decent price.”

The last remark elicited a chuckle from Furihata, but he was still nervously shifting from one foot to the other, “That’s very nice of you, but Akashi-san, you really don’t have to cook for me.”

“Please, it’s no trouble. You haven’t eaten already, have you?”

“No… I haven’t…”

“Then I hope you don’t mind if I borrow your kitchen,” Akashi padded towards the other side of the room, setting down the groceries and the gift box he’d been holding tightly onto the surface. “This shouldn’t take long, Furihata-kun, please get some rest in the meantime.”

“Uh… okay,” although he’d agreed, the wariness on his face wasn’t easing. He slowly took a seat on the couch, but he continued to cast skeptic glances in Akashi’s direction, “Akashi-san, are you sure you don’t need any help?”

“You needn’t worry, Furihata-kun, I’m just making a simple rice porridge.”

Akashi surveyed the groceries he’d lined up neatly on the counter. He already decided back at the supermarket that he’d make rice porridge for Furihata – it seemed easy enough, and appropriate for someone who was feeling under the weather. The only problem was, Akashi had never cooked anything remotely similar to porridge before. He found his phone in his back pocket and searched for a recipe, a crease appearing between his brows.

Measuring the ratio of water to rice was the easy part. The trouble was getting the porridge to the right texture. Akashi found himself anxiously checking on the pot several times as the grains boiled and bubbled inside. When he thought it finally resembled the photo in the recipe, he mixed a couple beaten eggs in with the rice, seasoning with salt before turning the stove off. He then transferred the porridge into a ceramic bowl he’d found in one of the cupboards, and finished it off with mitsuba for garnish. Akashi stepped back and regarded his work – it didn’t look bad at all.

Furihata was still a bundle of nerves when Akashi came over with a tray, setting the bowl down on the low table with a spoon by its side. The brunette clambered to a cushion on the floor, eyes flitting to Akashi as he took the seat next to him, “Um, what about you, Akashi-san?”

“I’m quite alright. I had a late lunch today,” Akashi had barely touched his takeout from the nearby soba restaurant, but he still didn’t feel hungry. He’d been so engrossed in his thoughts the past few days that his appetite had taken a hit, too. “I do hope the porridge is to your taste. I’ve never attempted a dish like this before.”

“Wow, you made something like this on your first try?” Furihata said, impressed. He lifted a spoonful of rice to his face, blowing on it before it entered his mouth. Akashi was watching expectantly, a creeping suspense coming over him, but as Furihata’s jaw moved to a cautious pace, he was curiously silent.

“How is it?”

“It’s, um… interesting,” Furihata swallowed, and he was looking down at the bowl with a pensive expression. “I don’t think I’ve ever had rice porridge like this before.”

Akashi wasn’t sure what that meant, and he leaned over the table to get a better look. Upon closer inspection, the rice looked rather slushy now, like it’d become a big bowl of white paste. It was obvious that he’d overcooked it. “I apologize,” Akashi murmured, the tips of his ears feeling hot, “I must’ve left it on the stove for too long.”

Furihata, however, giggled a hearty laugh and dug his spoon in for another bite, “You know what, it’s not bad though. Like it still tastes pretty good. And if anything, I’m kind of relieved that it turned out this way.”

Akashi tilted his head, “What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s just that you’re so good at _everything_ ,” he emphasized the word before engulfing another spoonful of the mushy porridge. Furihata’s lips curved into an amused smile, “I told you it feels like you’re from another world, right? But knowing there’s something you can’t do perfectly, it makes me feel a little closer to you – like we’re similar in some ways, after all.”

He couldn’t think of a reply that would give justice to the way his chest had swelled at Furihata’s words, so Akashi resigned to merely watching Furihata eat, a ghost of a grin on his own face as the other man finished the bowl clean.

“I’m stuffed now,” Furihata proclaimed after Akashi cleared the table. Despite Furihata’s efforts to stop him and do it himself, Akashi had been adamant about him taking it easy, “I can’t believe you actually cooked for me. I really appreciate it.”

“It was my pleasure,” said Akashi, sliding back onto the cushion closest to Furihata. “The truth is, I was quite worried when I heard from Momoi that you were unwell, and around Christmas, too. Hopefully you were still able to have a pleasant holiday…”

“I did! Luckily I didn’t get sick until the day after,” he had rested his arms on the table and was fidgeting with his hands, “My parents came over for Christmas and the four of us spent the evening together. It wasn’t much but I really missed them. I, um, I thought about texting you, but I… I didn’t know what to say…”

It was the first time either of them had addressed the tension between them following the Christmas Eve party. Truth be told, Akashi wasn’t sure what to say, either. He hadn’t thought that far ahead when he tossed all inhibitions aside during the drive here, to Furihata’s place. He was hoping that seeing the other man would’ve made it easier, and although he felt relieved being with him again, he was still scrambling at half-formed apologies in his head.

“I heard from Aomine and Kagami that you intervened in their fight,” Akashi began, an attempt to start from somewhere, “Thank you for that. Although I feel awful if that’s what caused you to get sick.”

“Oh, no, it was nothing. I know that garden is kind of special to you… I guess I just jumped in there before I could stop myself,” Furihata was still fiddling with his hands and he kept his gaze low, away from Akashi.

“Did you… were you waiting for me to return that night?” the red head ventured.

“Yeah, um, I guess a part of me was hoping you’d come back, so we could talk things over,” Furihata answered in a voice just above a whisper and Akashi’s gut felt like it was being crushed under his guilt. “Actually, I… I think you might’ve been right about a few things. About me trying to please everyone. I can see why you’d get annoyed, even I don’t really understand why I do those things…”

“No, it wasn’t right for me to say that at all,” Akashi asserted. His hands had balled into fists under the table. “Wanting to make others happy isn’t something to belittle or ridicule. That’s who you are, and if anything, I find that desire of yours… rather endearing.”

Furihata had turned to face Akashi now, regarding him with eyes that looked more curious than anything.

“Furihata-kun,” Akashi continued, steeling his will. The muddled thoughts in his head were finally coming together, like a jigsaw puzzle he’d been attempting without all the pieces. Only now, without having to look for them, the missing parts had turned up all at once, “I never should’ve said that to you the other night. I was frustrated for several reasons, and I took it out on you. It wasn’t my intention to hurt you. After all, I consider you someone who’s very… dear and important to me,” he paused, and a long breath filled his lungs, “It was wrong of me, and I apologize.”

The brunette’s face had softened, but Akashi could see there was still a thinly veiled apprehension, “It’s true that what you said was kind of harsh… but I think I understand where you were coming from. You were only looking out for me, right?”

“Yes, but it still doesn’t excuse my words,” Akashi said, adamantly. “I’m terribly sorry, Furihata-kun.”

There was a moment where neither of them spoke, and Akashi wondered if he’d said enough. He’d never been so candid before, let alone allowed so many of his feelings to become vocal, but he worried it still wasn’t sufficient. The knots in his stomach hadn’t completely vanished yet.

Finally, Furihata spoke into the silence, “Akashi-san, I don’t know if it’s presumptuous of me to say this since I’ve only known you for a few months, but I think you’re a really good person,” he’d stopped wringing his hands now, and his lips had widened, tugging into a smile, “You might not know it, but it shows in all the little things you do, like when you take on extra work to not trouble the other staff, or all the times you’ve been so patient with me. I mean, the fact that you’re here now, doing all this for me, I can see how much you care, and how sorry you must feel.”  
  
Akashi felt a lump in his throat, and he swallowed to compose himself. Somehow, knowing that Furihata still thought those wonderful things about him made his worries feel so insignificant now. The beginning of a smile had appeared on his own face, “I suppose that means you forgive me.”

“Of course,” Furihata said, half-chuckling.

The air in the small apartment felt lighter than when Akashi had entered, and it was like the weight he’d piled on his shoulders over the past few days had never even existed. Akashi let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, “Well, I can certainly say Christmas didn’t pan out the way I thought it would.”

“Did you do anything on your day off?”

Akashi shook his head, “I wasn’t exactly in a festive spirit.”

“You didn’t celebrate Christmas?” Furihata gaped at Akashi and before he could respond, the assistant had jumped to his feet and was already scurrying towards the kitchen. It was still amusing to Akashi, how Furihata could so easily disappear in the time it took to simply blink. He was ducking his head into the refrigerator now, mumbling out loud, “Wait, I think I still have… where is it… oh, here it is!”

“Sorry, I know it’s technically leftovers but,” Furihata had returned with half a strawberry shortcake, presenting it on the table in front of Akashi. Although a good portion of it was gone, the remainder of the cake was still intact, standing tall with layers of fluffy cream and strawberries in the deepest shade of red. “We can still do one Christmas tradition, at least. I had some fried chicken too, but my brother already devoured it…”

Akashi had only one memory of eating strawberry shortcake on Christmas – it was when he was in grade school and his mother was still alive. She had picked him up after classes and asked the driver to stop at a tiny bakery in a fanciful shopping district on the way home. He couldn’t recall the taste of the cake anymore, but he remembered that his mother had enjoyed it a great deal, gushing over every bite and even insisting that his father have a slice too. He eventually gave in (as he always did with Akashi’s mother), and the three of them sat around the dining table that Christmas night, laughing and digging into that cake until it was no more.

He’d forgotten what it was like to have that kind of happiness in his life. It felt like ages ago, and Akashi thought he’d given up trying to recreate some fulfillment akin to that feeling. But now that he was here, with Furihata, and a half-eaten strawberry shortcake between them, he felt the warmth that had eluded him for so long begin to rekindle inside him. A calmness took root in him, and it was the first time that recalling a memory of his mother didn’t feel so painful.

“Akashi-san?” Furihata had dipped his head to peer at his face when Akashi hadn’t said anything.

“I’m sorry, I was just thinking that my mother would’ve enjoyed this,” he replied, his tone airy.

Furihata was quiet. Then he said, solemnly, “I wish I could’ve met her.”

“She would’ve liked you,” it wasn’t just a polite thing to say, Akashi really meant it. “She liked warm people. She would always say that being around them made her heart feel full.”

_Well, that’s how I feel about you, anyways._

The brunette lit up with a smile again, and his hands became busy, cutting the cake into even pieces, one of which he plated for Akashi. He made sure to choose the slice with the biggest strawberry on top. Akashi had just picked up one of the forks set on the table when Furihata extended an arm so suddenly, that before Akashi had time to react, his vision was obscured by fluffy white and streaks of red…

The strawberry shortcake landed on Akashi’s suit jacket with a splat. In a way that only Furihata could mess up passing a slice of cake, he had sent the piece flying towards the red head instead. Akashi eyes dropped to the mess of cream on his jacket, and the plate that had settled – along with even more cream – on his lap.

“Oh my god! I-I… I’m so s-sorry, Akashi-san!” Furihata squeaked, tremoring hands flying forward but stopping short of Akashi’s chest, unsure of what to do, where to touch, “Y-Your suit!”

Akashi’s lips were tight as he hung his head, and a bizarre sensation came over him. Furihata was still panic-mumbling next to him, but he stopped when Akashi pressed a hand to his own face and his shoulders began to tremble. What followed was a laugh that came from the very pit of his stomach. It was loud, and wholehearted, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed this hard before. The sound of it was foreign, even to his own ears.

Furihata’s eyebrows pushed together but he also looked like he didn’t want to interrupt Akashi. His laughter finally faded, almost a whole minute later. It felt really good to get it out. It was like he’d been opened up and emptied, but in a pleasant, relaxing sort of way.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh that hard,” Furihata said around a grin.

“I… I do apologize,” Akashi panted, still giddy with the remnants of a chuckle.

“No, please don’t. You should laugh like that more.”

Furihata ended up offering Akashi some of his clothes to wear, promising that he’d take his suit to the dry cleaners first thing in the morning (Akashi assured him it could wait until he got better, but he couldn’t resist the urge to remind Furihata to actually pick up the suit later. Seeing his ears turn pink at the jab was too adorable a sight to pass up on). Akashi stepped into the small bathroom to change into the navy-blue pullover and grey sweatpants that he’d been handed. As he glanced at the mirror, Akashi lifted the collar of the sweater to his face, sniffing at the fabric. It smelled like Furihata. The familiar citrus scent was subtle, but the smell of fabric softener that lingered on most of Furihata’s clothes was still prominent. Akashi was looking at his smitten face in the reflection, thinking he was definitely in too deep now.

When he walked out, Furihata was standing in the kitchen, hovering over the white gift box Akashi had left on the counter. For something he’d dwelled on for so long, it was surprising how it managed to slip his mind again.

“By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask,” Furihata started, “What’s this box you brought with you?”

“That’s actually for you,” Akashi tried to say breezily. He returned to the low table and helped himself to a fresh slice of cake. “It is a bit late, though. I intended to give it to you on Christmas.”

“Y-You got me a Christmas gift?” Furihata’s mouth fell open. “But I didn’t… if I knew we were exchanging gifts, I would’ve gotten something for you, too.”

“You’ve already done so much for me, Furihata-kun,” and it was true. He’d given Akashi so much more than he could even begin to explain. “I don’t expect anything in return. It’s simply a gesture of my gratitude.”

“Um, I still feel kind of bad, but…”

“You may open it now if you’d like.”

The brunette grasped the box with hands that looked almost too cautious, and he made his way over to Akashi, plopping down next to him. Akashi couldn’t help noticing that he was a lot closer this time, their thighs bumping when Furihata crossed his legs.

Akashi felt his nerves collecting in his stomach again. He tried not to watch too closely as Furihata unwrapped the gift box, first picking out the sprig, then untying the ribbon. When he finally removed the lid, Akashi tensed, and his eyes found Furihata’s face, eager to capture his reaction.

“Th-this… how did you know?” Furihata brushed a hand delicately over the leather briefcase. His voice had nearly given out when he spoke, like he was overcome with emotion.

“When we visited the department store, that was the one you were looking at, right?” If he were to answer candidly, Akashi would’ve said he remembered every little detail about that day. He had carved it all into his memory.

“I-I don’t know if I can accept this – ”

“You can,” Akashi said, firmly. “You deserve it.”

Furihata was still fixed on the briefcase, and it was a few seconds before he swallowed, glossy eyes turning over to meet Akashi’s. “Thank you so much, Akashi-san. I love it.”

He was beaming, a spirited and honest smile, and it was so stunning, it made Akashi’s heartbeat feel erratic. Little by little, the rhythm was escaping him just as much as Furihata was etching himself in there.

Akashi could only stare back, wordlessly, the churning in his head finally coming to a stop when he realized he really, really wanted to kiss Furihata right now.

It’d been a little over three months since they first met. Was that an adequate amount of time to fall in love with someone? Three months was still a little under a hundred days. He knew that it wasn’t a matter that could be solved with numbers, but that’s what he was used to. Everything Akashi had ever rationalized before came down to numbers, statistics, spreadsheets. But this was different.

He’d fallen for Furihata with the force of a freight train and there was no rationalizing it.

But that didn’t matter, because he wanted this more than anything.

He raised his hand and steadily reached for the other man’s face. Akashi swept his flyaway bangs (which were a little damp from sweat) from where they’d been obstructing his chocolate brown eyes. In the same motion, the tips of his fingers trailed down the side of his face before he finally cupped his jaw. As Furihata stilled under his touch, Akashi reveled in the feeling of his skin, still warm from the fever, under his own.

And Furihata wasn’t pulling away from him. His eyes were wide, but there was a certainty in them that told Akashi all he needed to know. He wanted this, too.

Akashi’s brain was now barreling forward to a confession that had been dithering on his lips. Lips that wanted so badly to be on Furihata’s, they were practically begging for it. But first, he needed to say it. “Furihata-kun, the truth is,” he could feel his pulse in his throat, “I… have feelings for you… of a romantic nature,” Okay, maybe that didn’t sound too good. But he’d never done this before.

He waited on an answer, to see Furihata’s face change with some indication that his efforts weren’t in vain. He blinked, and his face was different – just not in the way Akashi expected.

From under Akashi’s hand he suddenly felt a heat that was almost too hot to touch. With half-lidded eyes and a visible weariness coming over him, Furihata’s head fell forward and Akashi had to catch the rest of him as he toppled over. As he held him in his arms, Furihata heaved shallow and shaky breaths.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m okay… I think I just need to lie down.”

Akashi acted quickly in helping Furihata get into bed. He’d given him some water, too, and placed a cold, damp towel against his forehead, in an attempt to bring his fever down. Once Furihata’s eyes had shut and he looked comfortable enough to fall asleep, Akashi rolled his shoulders and drew in a deep breath.

It was the first time he’d ever confessed to someone and they nearly passed out.

The last few moments replayed in his head and Akashi felt slighted by no one in particular, like the universe was playing a joke on him. But he knew he wouldn’t be upset for long, because he was mostly relieved that Furihata seemed to be okay.

Pushing aside his dismay for the time being, Akashi wandered around Furihata’s room, his interest piqued. Just like the rest of his home, it wasn’t a large space, but it was neat and there was a discernable coziness to it. Two bookshelves lined one wall, nearly filled to the brim. They were organized by genres, a few of his older manga collections turning a dull yellow, and an abundance of mystery novels taking up an entire shelf (Akashi remembered he was really into them lately). On his dresser sat a couple framed photos, one of his family, and the other, Akashi assumed, was his high school basketball team. A single model train car was almost hidden in the corner. It all seemed very on-brand with the assistant, and Akashi was smiling to himself before he knew it.

When he sat down on the edge of the bed to place a new towel on Furihata’s forehead, his eyes fell on Furihata’s desk, where a familiar blue notebook was perched on the corner. He recognized it as the notebook Furihata carried around at the office, always scribbling in it whenever Akashi gave him some instruction, or request. He picked it up, his curiosity once again getting the better of him. The notebook was worn by now, the corners of the cover curling slightly, and light brown wrinkles on the first few pages suggested a coffee spill that would only seem appropriate for its clumsy owner.

But what caught Akashi’s attention were all the notes inside – all of Furihata’s little observations. Schedules detailed to every hour of Akashi’s itinerary, which restaurants Akashi liked (with a note to reserve more meetings at them), a memo about Yukimaru, his horse, and which cars he preferred to drive on certain days (the Audi for long distance drives, and the Bentley whenever it was snowy). On one page there was a list of ideas for healthy sleep habits, with points like light exposure and caffeine intake. The words “weighted blanket” were circled several times. There was even a section dedicated to Akashi’s Oha Asa ranking on each day Midorima had dropped by the office, and reminders here and there to fit a break into Akashi’s schedule whenever it became more hectic.

In short, it was like a book of all the ways Furihata had taken care of Akashi in the past few months.

Akashi returned the notebook to the desk and a sobering feeling washed over him. How had he gotten so lucky, to have someone like Furihata Kouki in his life? He glanced back at the brunette and adjusted the towel on his head before his hand dipped lower, resting along his cheek again. Akashi stayed like that for a while, allowing himself only the slightest of touches, his thumb brushing against heated skin in slow strokes. When it came down to it, he had every impulse to touch, hold, and kiss Furihata, but for now, this was enough.

Just as he’d finally retrieved his hand and resolved to leave and let Furihata sleep, a warmth caught onto his fingers and was holding onto them firmly. Akashi looked down to find Furihata’s eyes half open, and his hand taking Akashi’s in his own, as if he were asking him not to go.

“You can stay here… if you’d like…” when he spoke, his words sounded heavy, almost slurred. He scooted over and made just enough room for another body to slide in.

Akashi was afraid it was the fever talking. Was he delirious right now? Would he even remember this tomorrow morning?

“Stay with me… Akashi-san…”

And all it took was a soft, barely-there tug of Akashi’s hand to convince him to climb in. He curled up on the bed facing Furihata, hands still joined, their fingers laced together. There wasn’t much space on the small mattress to stretch out, so Akashi had to weave his legs in with Furihata’s. Their noses were almost touching. For a moment, they merely watched one another, faces clear as day under the lights that Akashi had forgotten to turn off. Furihata’s eyes eventually fluttered shut, but Akashi remained watching him, thinking that maybe falling for Furihata was never about being rational. Maybe it was as simple as this.

It wasn’t long before Akashi began to drift off, lulled to sleep by the sound of steady heartbeats, not really sure which were his and which were Furihata’s.

* * *

It was seven in the morning when Akashi woke the next day. He was a bit flustered to find he’d slept so long, even missing his alarm, but when he took in the sight of Furihata snoozing so peacefully next to him, he immediately felt at ease. Akashi pressed a hand against Furihata’s forehead first, checking his temperature, and was relieved to find his fever had broke sometime during the night.

After several minutes passed with Akashi doing nothing but enjoying waking up next to Furihata, he texted Momoi that he’d be taking the day off. It was already too late for him to get to work on time. Plus, between being at the office and _here_ , the choice was obvious. Eventually Akashi hauled himself out of bed, stretching the sleep out of his system, and he eyed the balcony attached to the room. He could probably use some fresh air.

It was surprisingly on the warmer side for late December. The winds were seldom and calm, not biting against his face. He breathed in the morning air as his eyes swept over the sight before him. Furihata’s unit wasn’t very high, but the view was still quite nice. Tall buildings were almost swallowed up in the sunlight, and a thin sheet of snow veiled the trees below. In the distance, he could see a commuter train speeding along its tracks.

A couple buzzes from his phone called Akashi out of his ruminating.

 _[7:34] Furihata-kun called in, too. (¬_ _‿_ _¬) Totally not suspicious at all.  
[7:34] But don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. I’m rooting for you kids. (_ _◡_ _‿_ _◡_ _✿_ _)  
  
_While Akashi was trying to come up with a reply to Momoi that was reprimanding enough without further incriminating himself, the door of the balcony slid open and Furihata stepped outside, face looking a little swollen from sleep. He was wearing a thick cardigan over his hoodie and his ruffled brown hair stuck out like little sprouts on the left of his head. He looked absolutely adorable, and Akashi would’ve savored the sight for a second longer if he wasn’t already admonishing him for being there in the first place.

“Furihata-kun, you’re still not well, why are you out here?”

Furihata rubbed one of his eyes and blinked at him, “I should be asking you the same thing. You’re not going to the office?”

“Not today, no.”

“Y-You’re taking a day off?” he scratched his head, confounded, “But why?”

There was a grumble in the distance, the sound of cars passing by the apartment. The tiny balcony was submerged in the early morning sunshine, and it made Furihata squint under the light. As Akashi stared at Furihata standing three steps away from him, bundled in a hoodie that was too big for him, and messy bed hair framing rounded cheeks, he saw the only person he wanted to spend today, and every day with.

“Because,” Akashi reached over, and he pulled Furihata by the hand, so they were standing face to face, “You won’t be there.”

A blush bloomed on Furihata’s cheeks and under the sunlight the red looked lush, “Th-that’s certainly a reason…”

“Are you feeling better?”

“Um, I-I think so,” he gave Akashi’s hand a slight squeeze. “Thanks for staying with me last night…”

“You almost passed out,” Akashi made a point in saying. “May I ask… how much of last night do you remember?”

Furihata chewed on his lower lip before answering, “I’m pretty sure I didn’t hallucinate you confessing to me.”

Akashi felt his own face growing warm and he cleared his throat. He reminded himself this was a good thing, because the alternative would’ve been Furihata not remembering it at all. But when he thought back to the confession he’d let tumble out of his mouth so awkwardly, he cringed and wished he could do it over again. “Wait,” he uttered, urgency in his voice, “I’d like to say it again – properly this time.”

He took Furihata’s other hand so that he was holding both. Akashi ran his thumbs over the soft knuckles and his lips automatically curled into a small smile. Touching Furihata was beginning to feel so natural, and he was wanting to do it more and more.

“Furihata-kun, I like you,” the words felt natural, too, and he wondered why it’d taken him so long to say it. “Actually, I think my feelings surpass that, but this is all quite new to me and…” his voice changed when he saw the shrewd grin that had appeared on Furihata’s face, “And you knew the whole time.” Akashi let out a sharp sigh, but he was still smiling, “Sometimes I forget just how perceptive you are.”

“Not the _whole time_ ,” Furihata countered, cunning in his tone. “I think I clued in at the Christmas party when you tried to hug me.”

“That… I wasn’t…” he could only imagine how red his face was now. Maybe it glowed just as much as Furihata’s.

The assistant’s grin only grew wider, “Akashi-san, I…” as he spoke, a sudden bravery seemed to overcome him, and he straightened his back before saying, slyly, “What was it again? Oh, right… I, um, have feelings for you. Of a romantic nature.”

Akashi made a face when he heard his own words echoed back at him. He very nearly scowled.

“I like you, too,” Furihata finally said, relenting. He huffed out a chuckle, “Like, _a lot_.”

As Furihata laughed under the morning rays of sun, face still tinged with the brightest of reds, Akashi wished he could burn the image into his mind forever. He’d never seen someone look so radiant before. His grip on Furihata’s hands tightened, and when he decided he couldn’t hold himself back any longer, he was already leaning towards the brunette’s face.

“You might get sick if you kiss me now,” Furihata whispered into what was left of the space between them.

“I don’t think that’s likely, my body is in impeccable shape,” Akashi smirked as his forehead brushed Furihata’s. “Besides, a wise person once told me the company won’t burn to the ground if I’m not there.”

He took the cheeky smile on the brunette’s face as his cue and closed the distance between them, his lips catching Furihata’s in an eager kiss. They felt velvety and warm, and he could still feel the smile against his mouth as Furihata inclined his body towards him. Akashi snaked his arms around his waist and reeled him in, firm strokes of his lips urging him even closer. When Furihata’s hands moved along Akashi’s back, grasping the fabric of his sweater, his mind began to slip, and Akashi lost himself in the kiss.

This was it, the point of no return.

And as Furihata’s lips ran over his, over and over again, Akashi thought he could probably leave his whole heart on that balcony.

  
  
  


_Whether I'm sleeping or awake, I think of you all the time._

* * *

  
_Epilogue_

  


Akashi was browsing various rental websites at his desk, trying to decide which mansion to book for his upcoming business trip in Okinawa. And although he was nearly an hour into his search now, he knew it would ultimately come down to which accommodation Furihata liked best. _But would Kouki prefer this one with the indoor pool, or the villa close to the beach?_

He thought back to the way the assistant’s face had flushed pink and the stutter in his voice when he asked Akashi if it would just be the two of them going on the trip (the answer was, obviously, yes). They’d been dating for half a year now, so Akashi found it ridiculously cute how Furihata still squirmed whenever the conversation veered in that direction, even though he was already spending nights at Akashi’s condo more often than not.

“Akashi-san,” Furihata was walking into his office now, glancing down at the iPad in his hands. It was an upgrade from his previous notebooks and another gift from Akashi. The temptation to spoil his boyfriend was just too great. “I still have to schedule your dinner with Mibuchi-san. Is this Friday okay?”

“Yes, that’ll be perfect.”

“Hmm, you haven’t been to your favourite yudofu place in a while,” hummed the assistant. “I’ll book your meeting there, then.”

_Marry me!_

“Furihata-kun, wait,” Akashi stood up just as Furihata had turned towards the door. He made his way to the other man and his hand quickly found the small of his back, where it slid to wrap around his waist. “I think I could use a break now.”

“Sei!” Furihata hissed, trying to swat his hand away. “What did we say about being discreet at work?”

“Kouki,” Akashi said his name in a way that it came out like a silky whisper. “Won’t you indulge me for a bit?”

Furihata’s eyes were darting over his shoulder at the glass walls that separated them from the rest of the office, “Someone might see us!”

“Why do you think I had blinds installed?”

Akashi reached for his phone in his pocket. He pulled up an app and after a few taps, the blinds on the glass walls closed with a low, mechanic rumble.

A sigh escaped Furihata’s lips as Akashi leaned against his desk. He pulled the brunette into his space, hands fastening on his hips, “Sei, I swear, one of these days we’re going to get caught.”

“And?” Akashi grinned when Furihata eased into his hold, “Must I remind you who owns this company?”

“Yes, yes, almighty emperor. I know.”

He laughed under his breath and tugged Furihata closer, pressing a kiss against his lips and then again, on the temple of his head. “Kouki,” he said once more.

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

The strain between Furihata’s brows finally softened as he mumbled an “I love you, too” back. When he caved into another kiss, the fragrance of citrus shampoo filled Akashi’s lungs and he knew he wasn’t going to get any work done that day. Any and all thoughts of meetings, reports, or emails had been abandoned as soon as Furihata stepped into the room.

“Perhaps I should soundproof my office, too.”

  
  



End file.
